Because Sesame Street
is a necessary evil… Yes
certain things in this world, like war and being irradiated
by the cell phone and Elmo
leading your children away
like an iridescent pied piper
can’t be avoided.
The kids are going to find all three
and keep seeking ‘til they get ‘em…
sometimes, if you can avoid it
it’s better not to put words to things.
If you could be the size of a kid again…
In as large a state of wonder…
Wherein corridor for instance was like St. Peter’s in Rome on the inside,
you’d see that, POOF! Words and labels
Yet the world will have its monsters
even cute, flourescent and freakishly literate ones.
My perfect unfolding,
my two-year old boy
puts on a cd, just like Daddy does,
though he scratches it quite a bit more.
It whirs, and still spits out some Sesame Street songs.
“I Love Trash”
“Oscar’s Junk Band.”
“Occa’s Junt Ban again!” he manages
We spend an eternity in a loop,
a circling deeper and deeper.
is not an evil, nor could it ever be.
I have digested my boy and myself and Sesame Street too.
I have spit out the evil.
There is a message from the universe in this event.
above heaven, I think,
the GREAT BEING is cupping
What I can only grasp to be hands…
Around what I can only grasp as mouth…
Calling down to us through what we refer to as the stars…
“PAY GARBAGE MEN MORE MONEY!”
Ah! It is just!
Anyone who’s ever had a boy in a town anywhere
knows that it’s just.
Who fascinates more than Grandpa or bakery ladies or Spongebob Squarepants?
Who winks and smiles a more scintillating smile
When you and baby boy wave?
That’s right! Imagine our anguish
If the garbage couldn’t afford to work anymore. Now a days
As it is, they live in over-crowded apartments
And can’t afford a mortgage.
Don’t give me that line that they didn’t go to University.
University is one of those places
Where people go who figure out how to get you to buy more devices
that’ll irradiate your eyeballs
gonads and children and where most of the money goes to the sports
and T.V. industries anyway,
which are only “necessary,” by the way, cause people
think they are.
Getting the trash out?
Now that is necessary. No one can argue here,
Even if you’re a hermit. When the garbage men of the body go on strike
You get constipated. Sick.
Become a grouch and somehow me and Oscar
And Buddy Boy know this:
We take in Goodies at our ease, good stuff and sometimes junk too.
We like good old fashioned nonradioactive equipment.
We eat up the stuff that touches our hearts and minds,
eat grapes and pear, and watermelon; get real, real good and clear
So that the shit
Doesn’t stick to us.