10-17-90

The salad days of my career
As your Baby reappear
When pumpkin patches dot the land
In your bathroom, small, I stand

There is a box I firmly hold
All the colors, wrapped in gold
you pick them out and put them on
More and more till I am gone

And in my place, the mirror tells
A painted little kitty dwells
The wildest one that’s e’er been seen
A psychedelic kitty queen

Another time I dreamed I’d be
Something different, new, like me
A mailbox? Help me! How’s it done?
Matter’s not, she wants the sun

A saner father would have said
That’s very nice, but what instead?
A fairy princess?, Glamour Queen?
But no, not you, you dug my scene

Took cardboard, staples and a knife
Imagination – gave it life
Had it painted, stenciled, too.
And on that note, the mail went through

It’s all your fault, but how can I
Go to the store, take the easy route, buy
Something that’s made for anyone’s Tommy
My kids are different, ‘cuz I’m their Mommy

And I know for a fact that some things are worth
The time and the trouble of moving the earth
To share a dream, to make it real
To show them what it is I feel.