Time is a Toy: The Selected Poems of Michael Benedikt

In Praise of Children (I)

127 in praise of children (i) Lookingaroundallthetime,aswedo,onthisearth,focusingaswedosoclearly oneverythingthatisvisible,wesometimestendtooverlookthings.Forexample, thefactthatnotonlyiseverybodyhuman,buteverybodyissomekindof child. Yes, the great secret wisdom of Mother Earth, the one thing she verily knows andwilltellusaboutshouldwecaretolisten,yetwhichwecontinuetoreactwith respect to, as if we might still be ignorant, is that the entire human race has always consisted of children! Different sizes, shapes, and ages, it is true—some unlikely in their manifestations, and so unfortunately isolated in their sad, melancholy, and/or underprivileged predicaments, it’s as if they had never been born—But all, all are children. Everybody is children! The fact is that the only fully formed adult who will probably ever be located will probably be somesecretforgottenamoeba,clingingtotheundersideof Time,inemptyspace. Thatindisputablepatriarchwillobviouslyhavebeenthere,still,sinceatleastthe dawnof creation—sogoahead,oh,mydear,andoh,myalsosomewhatobdurate children, go ahead and try to send him your Father’s Day cards. ...