It’s for your own good
my father belted.
My mother did the same
at the dinner table with peas.
Mr. Drury in grade 7 had me
write lines of “P”s,
“It’s for your own good.” he opined.
Cigarettes are now $10 a pack
and casinos $1,000 plane rides away.
“It’s for your own good,” they say.
Seat belts, sanitariums and saints
always a safe, sane, step away.
My wife, my ever always wife
books me monthly to see a doctor
as much a dunce as a doctor can be.
All he offers are pills and pleasantries.
They both say, “It’s for your own good.”
Wars, weddings, sprayed green lawns
taxes, papal proclamations and government acts.
“It’s all for your own good,” they declare when asked.
My life nearly done and
I have yet to truly taste
what we call – free.
I followed footsteps
and danced to my own good
doing as I was told.
Thinking back, I now know
how I came to be who I am
this man, here and now
finally at home in the world
on edge, aware,
of what is really good for me.
My flusher finally broke.
It’s like one day you wake up
and realize there ain’t no jello tree
or the dictionary was written by a pedophile
and
you head out the door to plant or write your own.
