The Painting Speaks to You
Thank you for coming
tonight to watch the kids,
there’s money for pizza
in the kitchen, bedtime
is 10:30, don’t let them
just wet their toothbrushes
to pretend they’ve brushed,
please watch them brush,
what else am I forgetting,
I want to make sure you
know everything you need
to so that you’re all safe
and happy, so that you
all grow up and feel at least
three versions of love.
I wish I didn’t have to
leave, but since I do, know
how much you mean to me,
and remember to wear gloves,
and go to the dentist, and say
thank you to your teachers and
be kind to those who are strange
or in pain, for once you were
or will be strange in a land
unfamiliar to you. There is
so much to say in limited
space, you’ll need to say
these things to your children
also, and to the sitters looking
after your children that you must
speak to about the children
they are caring for, tonight
or in fifty years or in
a thousand years.
This isn't the poem's main thought, which I like, but it's the major hook for me:
ReplyDeletefeel at least
three versions of love.
I wish I didn’t have to
The "three versions" line really stood out for me, too.
ReplyDelete"there’s money for pizza
in the kitchen"
Such ubiquity, but also such a personal facet, well done.
a big fat kiss on this one. you brought me into it not knowing exactly where i needed to go and then you sent me on into my failure. there is no perfection. there is no information transferal (god, that sounds so sterile) complete enough.
ReplyDeletexo
erin