Monday, August 29, 2016

Born with nothing to lose 

Born smart
born happy
but surrounded 
by the deliverer, that dull dumb mean one 
(her muumuu tied around your throat)
in two rooms.

Your baby shoes, the tv guide,
the tv dinner, your first and last  
job application (not filled out, already rejected) 
on the tv tray.

Sooner or later you’ve got to get in the way
or else become a helper, committee member, tv starer, 
facebook follower, church youth camp macrame mentor,
good deed runner.

Or—you get way out of the way
and run like hell. 

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