songs are green plastic soldiers
in combat formation
placed by a childish hand on a racetrack carpet
knocked behind enemy lines
disappearing
and then back for a triumphant return
into the heel of a mother
and ‘fuck’ goes the battle cry
and ‘put your toys away’ goes the trumpet
and the solicited response in her initiates another in a small child
who thinks, ‘the war has just begun’
Add comment