From The Car-Seat Behind Me Poem by Glen Martin Fitch

From The Car-Seat Behind Me



Enthroned within her realm
she asks me 'Why? '
(I can’t recall just
what she wants to know.)
I answer logically.
'But why? '
I lie this time.
(a phase? a game?)
I let it go.
'But whyyyyyyy? ”
She asks again.
I feel attacked.
My face turns red.
I glare.
I clench my jaws.
(If I were you
I would have gotten smacked.)
I use the default setting,
'Just because.'
Well, 'Why? ' indeed.
Don't we all fret and strive to know?
But get the answer- nothing's solved.
I've seen
injustice and addictions thrive.
Small comfort,
waste of time,
and what's resolved?
But asking,
(Joy!)
her learning has begun.
'Not all 'Why questions'
have an answer, Hon'.'

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