I cling to you like cicada shells,
as hollow as a bead.
I want you to fill me up
when grace is what I need.
I look to you like a little child
just learning how to read.
I want you to say I’m right
when grace is what I need.
I come to you like a punctured tire,
on a car still guaranteed.
I want you to change me quick
when grace is what I need.
I wait for you like a passenger
impatient for your speed.
I want you to come right now
when grace is what I need.
He’s building me a chicken coop
that rolls around the yard,
so dealing with the chicken poop
shouldn’t be too hard.
He’s making sure this chicken coop
is structurally sound.
We’ll have to get the neighbors’ help
to roll the thing around!
That’s why I’ve been cranky–
my blood-chocolate was low!
That’s why life was dim and dark.
I’m glad that now I know.
It’s bad to be in a bad mood,
but you know what’s even worse?
When you don’t know why you’re in it–
now that’s a double curse.
Stir-crazy
Oh, Good Sabbath, welcome rest!
Come put up your feet.
Sit with me upon the couch
and thank God for this week.
But first, Good Sabbath, let me ask:
would you like a cup of tea?
Or coffee, water, juice or milk?
A little bite to eat?
Good Sabbath, are you comfortable?
I wish the house was clean!
It’s just I’ve been so busy–
you know what I mean.
Good Sabbath, I’ll be right there.
Just one more thing to do.
If I just finish this a minute
I can concentrate on you.
Okay, Sabbath, now I’m done.
Good Sabbath, where’d you go?
You left before I had a chance.
Why, I’ll never know.
Toys for my baby–
what would she enjoy?
Based on trends of past forays,
she’d like these kinds of toys:
a mobile made of scissors,
needles, awls, and pliers,
on long strings hanging to her reach
(no fun if they were higher);
a playmat made of plastic sacks,
and books to tear apart;
a toybox full of tissues, chords,
and brightly colored darts.
I take away the cable
she has found to chew.
Of course she starts to cry.
I say, “Oh, I love you!
And that is why I put away
these things that are so fun.
I love you more than you love them.
Your fun is far from done.”
If you find it morbid
to rhyme of deathly toys,
think of all your vices–
those dangers you enjoy.
You win some, you lose some,
most of us go on with either.
We say, “Go big or go home,”
but some can go neither.
It’s not that they’re afraid to take a risk.
they’ve just got nothing left to lose,
no goods left to proffer,
no option left to choose.
Life is not fair.
Some have the shorter end.
And me with the bigger–
can I be their friend?
When they must choose between two evils,
Can I give a third choice?
Can I speak for those
with no home, no way, no voice?