age 11, reading e.e. cummings
I ask the teacher:
Why can e. defy the rule of grammar?
“Creative license”, she said.
Wow! Even as a kid I understood
that kind of power
to rebel
against the Capitol
to punctuate any order
to choose, full
stop
I only wanted to know:
How could I get one too?
in the word world of children
language is everything
but all
the pallets of grey
take years to unpack
like how
an incision is a fresh wound
painful and bled in the
same vein
and a smile is mostly incisors
I used to think the home-less were house-less
not slept away in a
second story
where the boarded up windows keep
the idea of
people out
tucked beneath worn blankets
and torn sleeping bags
and more
discarded
wrappers
a general man told me,
“when you wage war,
you must expect
some
collateral damage”
but never spoke about how
through the gaps in the gable,
like
a lapse in a fable,
the unseen still see
the same snow fill, up
the old spruce hill
where professors
obstruct
a pure structural view
“in the word world of children
language is everything”
it is so obvious to those
who eat the food that mothers cook
and never once, either
foolish or stubborn
tasted poison