A wretched chunk staggers
a l o n g
and the brain--- with tentacles--- feels
and gropes around its new treasure,
its pumpkin-smelling budget
and the ocher aid in your ear
"you are a floppy gofer,
eat your greens, babbit, and fetch
me a pail of water"
but its all non-nonsense, of course
all profound bibble babble
is child-speak for. . . . .
"WHAT THE FUCK?!?!"
(or maybe, it's just the word
put beforehand; by the time
the adult brain finishes ingesting it,
it is aware of the fine-tuned hairs
in glassy-globed ears)