So I’ve been up since about 2:30 this morning, dealing with some intestinal issues that can best be described as “explosive”, which means that any tasks that cannot be performed while lying prostrate in the hallway next to the bathroom door so as to reduce my commute time just aren’t happening today.

So in lieu of any kind of keen, thoughtful, penetrating, or insightful post today, instead I share this poem that arrived in my inbox via Jill Badonsky’s monthly e-zine. This issue is about the relationship between creativity and rebellion, and while I don’t have any personal experience in that area-(SNORT! Yeah, okay, I can’t even type that with a straight face.) Ahem, as I was saying, this issue is about the relationship between creativity and rebellion, and since that is a subject which is near and dear to my heart, I really appreciated this poem.

“They’ll”

by Cheryl Denise, from I Saw God Dancing. © Dream Seeker Books, 2005.

They’ll

take your soul
and put it in a suit,
fit you in boxes
under labels,
make you look like the Joneses.

They’ll tell you go a little blonder,
suggest sky-blue
tinted contact lenses,
conceal that birthmark
under your chin.

They’ll urge you to have babies
get fulfilled.
They’ll say marriage is easy,
flowers from Thornhills
are all you need
to keep it together.

They’ll push you to go ahead,
borrow a few more grand,
build a dream house.
Your boys need Nikes,
your girls cheerleading,
and all you need is your job
9 to 5 in the same place.

They’ll order you never to cry
in Southern States,
and never, ever dance
in the rain.

They’ll repeat all the things
your preschool teacher said
in that squeaky too tight voice.

And when you slowly
let them go,
crack your suit,
ooze your soul
in the sun,
when you run through
the woods with your dog,
read poems to swaying cornfields,
pray in tall red oaks,
they’ll whisper
and pretend you’re crazy.