Search

An Observer of Life in Bad Poetry

Commentary on Daily Life, Politics and Sports

Category

childhood

What’s Up with all these Peanut Allergies

The young boy eyed the lunch room lady with both anticipation and suspicion

The smell emanating from the cafeteria had given the lad an eerie premonition

Pushing the tray down the rail in wide-eyed fearfulness he waited for that dreaded sound

And there it was, the splash in the soup bowl of slimy tomato, looking like a dissected science experiment that drowned

Add to the sloshing of the soup bowl, the splat of the leaky peanut butter and jelly sandwich gluing itself to the melmac plate

This presentation passed for lunch once a month without any regard to the kid’s immediate fate

Flash forward fifty years and today’s crop of classmates would be watching their peers being wheeled out on stretchers in severe anaphylactic shock

It seems today that children need to to be cautious about what they ingest, or they’ll quickly be on their way to the doc

Currently food allergies are on the rise partially to the “clean environment” paranoia. Many foods besides peanuts are on the no eat list

Kids aren’t on the playground anymore sharing dirt, germs, and microbes causing the gut health to suffer and peanut butter sandwiches cease to exist

Helicopter parents standing at the ready with their sani-wipes, antibacterial soaps and sanitizing clothes detergents have weakened the immune systems

In an effort to keep their kids safe from illness the children themselves have become the victims

Who’da ever thought a jar of peanut butter could unleash a deadly effect on kids when the previous problem was always creamy or chunky

That and the fact the classroom full of screaming kids always smelled like the breath of a monkey

The microbes in the gut play an important part in overall health so let the kids play in the dirt

Besides this explains why rats, cockroaches and politicians seem to thrive in their own filth and always emerge unhurt

When It’s Black On Black, Matter Lacks

IMG_3162 (2)Another day another shooting another young life ends in death

Onlookers peek from windows and doorways as a young child draws her last breath

Fifty years ago Elvis Presley sang about an angry young man who lays down in the street and dies

And as a crowd gathers round his mama cries

Fifty years later the cries of anguish are still heard

The murders are numerous, so many atrocities the crimes become blurred

Today the perfectly coiffed news reporter stands at the scene trying to emphasize society’s decay

But it’s just the daily shooting and the public has become blase

This wasn’t a white cop involved in the fatality

So the standard interview with the neighborhood leaders is just a formality

The protests, rioting and looting will have to wait for another time

Because this was a gang related random act and somehow that’s not as much of a crime

It’s a black thing, you people on the outside just don’t understand

So to combat this senseless violence the call is for the police to disband

We may not understand but we’re sickened by the pools of blood on the sidewalk

And the forensics teams drawing tiny victim’s outlines in chalk

Oh, the mayor will form a committee to study this area’s depravation

And will issue a stern warning to gang members in a wordy proclamation

Just as a another little casket is lowered into the ground under cloudy skies

As a silent group of mourners stand ashen faced while another mother cries

The Wed Perse


“Kevin are you glad that you’ve gotten to leave the classroom and come spend time with me?
And if we can break your pronunciation problem with the r’s it will be time well spent. Don’t you agree?”

“So you just sit there and we’ll work on your speech. What color is my purse?”
“Ma’am, your perse is wed.” Knowing my r just went from bad to worse

“No Kevin, the purse is red, rrrr red. Can you repeat that?”
“Yes ma’am, rrrr wed.” More words the kids can poke fun at

Wats!

“Okay Kevin, we’ll try again. How many apples are on the stand?”
“Ma’am it looks like thwee.” Wanting to bury my head in the sand

Wats! Wats!

“Kevin it’s three, thrrrree. Can you repeat it?”
“Yes ma’am, thwee.” As frustration reached the point of throwing a fit

“No Kevin, it’s thrrrree. Repeat it one more time.”
“Thwee.” Just knowing I’m sounding like I’m committing a crime

Cwap!

“Kevin let’s take a minute and watch the yard man cutting grass through the window screen. What color is the grass?”
“Ma’am, he’s cutting gween gwass.”

Cwap! Cwap!

“Okay Kevin, I see our twenty minutes are up and your class is outside for recess. Do you know when our next session is before you go out to play?”
“Yes ma’am it’s thwee o’clock on Fwiday.”

Fuck!

“Oh Kevin, it’s thrrrree o’clock on Frrrriday. I guess I’ve got another ten minutes to spare.
So you’ll stay here and repeat after me, and stop squirming in that chair.”

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: