Sometimes I get it when she wakes up so, so frustrated
and it seems just too much to ask us to put our shirts on,
“A sleeve??? You have GOT to be- I can’t even…
just no! NOOO! I’m going back to bed! This is bull…
A sleeve??!!!!!!!! Really, MOM????”
And I should coach her through this,
help her learn that some days
we just have to put our arms through the hole…
But instead I find myself cheering her on:
Right on kid!! and Screw shirts! and Fight conformity and such!
and Don’t let anyone dull your shine, dash your light!
Shirts are for the weak-minded and scared!
Shirts are a tool of the man!
Shirts are setting us back 50 years!!
And she just looks at me like,
Is this going to be my life?
and puts her arm through the sleeve.
Lord, in your mercy…