02 June 2011

This Breaks My Heart of Stone

*censored*

One a bench, one a table.
Dirt hand prints on cleaning clothes.
Sanitation. Responsibility. Respect.
Drops of bleach on a new shirt
all rolled in.
Open the cabinet and find
stick to the door by your fingertips.
Don't look down.
No one knows how long that's been there.
Here comes the unpredictable chaos
padding and shouting through the door.
Arms open to guide them to the food.
"Do you want some?
I'm going to put it on your plate anyway."
"Three more bites."
So many little parents
learning on each other through trial and error.
"One at a time"
Wipe "f---" off the wall.
Listen to one and watch them all.
"Two more bites"
That's not really her name.
Try again.
Watching a battleship game
where everyone places miss tabs
until they know they've hit a ship.
"Don't hit. Not allowed."
"Take another bite for me?"
"We don't say that at Church."
Explain something
only to realize you don't really understand.
Note to self: wash up to your elbows.
Shirt smells of urine.
Hold the child's weight even closer.
"Did you get enough?"
No. They never do.
Stay by the door.
"One at a time."
More dirty hand prints on cleaning cloths.
Purple blue green frosting on his collar.
On her face.
Washing hands and still feeling dirty
Get out the first aid kit.
"Are there band aids?"
Can't be sure.
Wipe "w----" off the wall as you walk out.

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