Monday, August 30, 2010


They say, you know, something important
So you are supposed to pay attention
Pay attention, I said, you stupid child
Pay attention with eyes locked there
Just there, for they will see when you do not

There. Look there.  Are you looking?

I didn't think so.

Child, child, child you will not amount
To much, if you don't pay attention
With coins and bills and, above all
Your mind that is coins and bills and

Are you paying attention, child?

I think not.  It is time for you to start
Minding and not be wandering around
Those brown snow-laced  furrowed fields
That are clearly

Are you minding me?  I don't think you
Are.  Why are you being this way?
What put that in your head?
Do you think you are something

Let it go, child.  Please.  Let it go and
Perhaps someday you will know that
It was all meant for the best.  That
He really did mean the best. That
If you just paid simple attention
Attention would have been paid.

Until then


  1. Hah, Cordelia. I nearly threw in "How sad for you" but decided to leave that for another poem.

  2. I like the way that words come back with a difference in this poem--like mind, minding, and then "your head." Feels like a ritual in a way, one with a way in, that only hints at a way out?

  3. Thanks, L. That's what I had in mind. I don't know if there is a way out of empty phrases or not.