Today's poem is by Mitchell Metz
Sweet Pea's Lament
Whose timber Mom shivered
to procure a penciled-in kid
goes beyond the unspoken.
I am the never-asked. Pop,
I need some answers. Who
are you and how did Mom's
pencil-thin womb blossom
with any cartoon conception
other than immaculate? A rubber
eraser is a nobler fate than mute
bastardy in a sleeper. Bluto's brat
says I'm adopted. But maybe,
maybe I belong to a better world.
There are letters from Mr. Magoo.
Copyright © 2007 Mitchell Metz All rights reserved
from The Listening Eye
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission
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