Inside the Mind of a 3 Year Old

sickwilliesickwillie Posts: 178
edited April 2005 in Poetry, Prose, Music & Art
I was looking through some old writings the other day, and came across this little piece I wrote about five years ago. I remember watching my daughter as she went about the important business of nothing in particular, and I suddenly got really scared about the future. There's a whole backstory that feeds the disturbing imagery and various references to death, but it's much too complicated, long-winded and forgotten to bore you with. So, enjoy the poem.

...

She doesn't care about the money yet
She doesn't even know it exists
And she doesn't have very much to do
But eat, and cry, and dream, and sleep
(I pray the lord her soul to keep)

She says that no one loves her anymore
But she won't tell me where she heard that
I hope mommy isn't in on this
...I hope it's not proven

She reads her picture book
I watch the stock market
(No reason, it's just on)
It just goes on and on...
The brokers all look like cartoon characters
And I can't imagine why she wouldn't want to
Sit here on my knee and talk about the Dow Jones

But I regress

She doesn't care about the money yet
She doesn't even know how to spend it
And she doesn't have very much to want
But food, and tears, and love, and fear
(All I have is cookies, hugs and cheer)

She says that no one's worth loving anymore
And, no, she won't tell me where she heard that
I hope the TV isn't in on this
...because I want to keep it on

There's just got to be something worth watching
Maybe a nature show, or wrestling
Or hockey (I think she likes hockey)
With all its violent teamwork and heroic humanity
Alas, there's no end to these cartoons
This one's about murder
They found Big Bird under the bridge
(Throat slit ear to ear)
I don't remember reading that book when I was a kid
Then again, I don't remember much of anything

It's time we talked, sweetie
You see, I fucked your mother
And no matter what she says
That's not the only reason I love you
Now, please
Go to sleep before the weather

(I have to pay attention to them
The forecasters, I mean
They're important to me
Them, and stock brokers
And these word processing programs
The ones that help me speak my mind
In the midst of all of this
Animated slaughter and teddy bear stuffing
Floating in the night air)

Well, what did you want me to say?
All I know of the past three years is this:

You don't give a fuck about me, or anyone.

If that toy broom was a .38 Special
I would be dead right now
And I bet you'd use my corpse to play horsey
You're so silly like that
Always in it for the fun

Mommy says she loves you
But I know you don't believe her
You don't even know what belief is
In five years, you'll believe far too much
Become too trustworthy
And you'll grow up just like me

And this is the most frightening threat I have ever known.
"We've done really well with teenage death songs." -EV
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