I recently unearthed this poem that I wrote when I was a teenager.
I do not now recall the precise circumstances that inspired it, but now I am sharing it with the Internet. You’re welcome.
WORD TO THE WISE, or Little Tiny Violins — DENIED!
I’m not sure where
I should begin
Except to say
the melodrama’s wearing slightly thin.
My orchestra of Gothic rock
is getting bored,
they want time off.
And there is only so much heaving
A woman’s bosom can withstand.
Now I’m not saying
I’m not guilty
Of wringing hands and clutching brow
But Jesus! there are better ways
to deal — let’s try them now.
Repeat with me
“There’s more to life than angst”
I knew you could!
“My actions will not cause the world to crumble”
That was good!
Of course it isn’t easy — did I ever say it was?
Decision-making sucks but you should make them.
Why? Because —
I’ll break in here to interrupt myself, to make it clear
This poem’s addressed not just to you, but also to me, dear.
And so I say to both of us
In doggerel paraphrase
Act or the world acts on you.
That’s it! Case closed! New phase.