by Glen Martin Fitch
Hey, parents.
Back off.
Thanks, but leave me be.
I've got a mind to stretch and
flex and tone
to challenge speed,
test time, tease gravity.
I've got to do it now
and on my own.
You want to help?
Okay. Hear my demand:
Safe space,
all day,
some friends and
open air.
Please trust me.
Let me build
my "what if" land,
a stage to act out
triumph and despair.
Those hyper ads
would make me beg and
yearn to hoard
the moving, plastic,
painted stuff.
The more each does for me
the less I learn.
For pure imagination
it’s enough to give me
mud or snow and
sticks and rocks.
Return that gadget,
but I need the box.
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ABOUT THE POET ~
Glen Fitch is a 16th Century poet lost in the 21st Century. Born near Niagara Falls, educated in the Catskills, thirty years on the Monterey Bay he now lives in Palm Springs. Retail not academics has paid the bills. Someday he will finish Spenser's "The Fairie Queene."
Last updated August 23, 2011