The Adoption of Unreasonable Tykes
This waif-world is adopted.
It was sewn together with patches
torn from consequences.
Old Mother Reality
took it in
out of the cold nowhere.
She feeds it now, but only
the food that it is ready to eat
mostly it's puppy food
and an all-purpose applesauce.
Like any infants,
the earth as we understand it,
wails and throws up,
plays with toys that are dangerous,
ends up
with chocolate cake all over its face.
Old Mother Reality
wipes its confused mug
(and sometimes its ****),
teaches it one small
acceptable wishy-washy truth
at a time,
and hopes the world grows up
before she lets it go
play in the street alone.
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