Child, why are you crumpled
here on the couch, when you could be
dancin’ in the streets?
Momma, that ain’t dancing,
it’s likely choking and holding,
then protests and gassing
of those who do, and besides,
there’s a plague upon us;
we’re ‘sposed to shelter, displaced.
I know; it’s awful, and I’m sorry
for the state of the world
we’re handing you, but it’s my understanding
that life goes on, so get your rump
up if not out the door; find some way
to make things better; maybe
cat videos or helping the poor.
(Sigh.) I guess you’re right. While the couch
is comfy, it’s still a crutch, propping up
my nothing much. I’ll go make myself
an installation; it’ll be a sensation,
and maybe I’ll escape being a bore.