ON RUNNING AWAY

They may not think of it as running away,

But at 15 they:

Entered the convent and put on the veil

Got in the pimp’s car and became a whore

Enlisted and were given a gun

Joined the sect to work for free.

              Many never got out alive.

Never join if they tell you

What food you can’t eat (for religion, not health)

What clothes you must wear (that mark you as different and owned)

What music’s forbidden (even if no one else hears)

How your hair must be cut (for organizational reasons)

Run away!

They are stealing your life with their vows and their lies!

Run away! You are under no obligation to stay!

But running away does not need to mean attempting suicide -

From that too, many never get out alive…

O young people!

At 15 it is best, if you have to leave home,

To go overseas on a high school exchange for a year.

Almost as good (but short term)

Is to run to your family’s friends

Or your friends’ families.

But if you have to leave family behind

It is better to run off and join the circus

Or move in with an artist

Or work your way round the world on a boat

And to go from idea to idea

(This is the secret. Not to get stuck in any idea. The world is too large),

Than to live with the one-idea people

Who will suck your brain dry.

You may never get out alive.

Published online: Snakeskin 225, January 2016

TO MYSELF IN 50 YEARS TIME

Old fool! You really think yourself the same
As I who write to you, aged 22?
Ha! All we’ve got in common is my name:
I’ll wear it out, throw it away,
You’ll pick it up some other day....
But who are you?

My life’s before me; can you say the same?
I choose its how and why and when and who.
I’ll choose the rules by which we play the game;
I may choose wrong, it’s not denied,
But by my choice you must abide....
What choice have you?

If, bored, I think one day to see the world
I pack that day and fly out on the next.
My choice to wander, or to sit home-curled;
Each place has friends, good fun, good food,
But you sit toothless, silent, rude....
And undersexed!

Cares and regrets of loss can go to hell:
You sort them out with Reason’s time-worn tool.
Today’s superb; tomorrow looks as well:
The word “tomorrow” is a thrill,
I’ll make of mine just what I will....
What’s yours, old fool?

Published online: Snakeskin, UK, September 2008