Just play nice.

Sure, I'll fill out a W2 and memorize my employee number
I'll push them on the swings and let them recite small poems
find their simple jokes terribly amusing and walk in front
backwards while calmly yelling for them to get in line,
I'll do it without a whistle, force them to listen

but what if their ears don't want to hear?

"Ms. Beth, push me to the moon."
Sure, and I just saw that on a bumper sticker
wonder if for some reason this child belongs to that car,
"Ms. Beth, will you push me next?!?"
The voices ring out as I quickly formulate long lasting rules,
about waiting turns and moving down lines and no,
I don't like you all equally and no,
you can not be the line leader and no,
you can not hold my hand, and no,
I will not hold you--I'm not your mother
pick the mulch out of your own eye ball -- I'm not the nurse
unbutton your own pants, crawl up on to the toilet -- I'm not a potty trainer.

So now what?
Oh, they're paying me to treat them like adults--
I don't care if you're crying, learn when to stop
Someone stepped on your fingers? Next time, move them.
You miss your mother? So do I. She's a ghost, welcome to life.

Don't tell him he's fat, that's insensitive
Do not push or put your hands on each other, that's A NO-NO.
Get in line.
Get in line.
You're out of line.
And you're out of line.
Every one's feet need to be on this red line.

I. AM. WAITING.

You sure wasted a lot of time getting in line
and being respectful,
I am really disappointed,
I am really disappointed in all of you,
I am really disappointed in you,

Oh,
a part time job--
this is a life time--
and it doesn't matter that I lose my voice laughing
because you're absolutely hilarious and delightful,
that I look forward to going outside with you to play

because my voice will heal, but my stomach is raw
and my stomach will heal, but my head hurts,
acetaminophen will help my head, but then my lungs
they are cracking from the heat of my blood surging
through out my chest and my neck is sore from holding
up my head, too exhausted to hold it high but refuse any other posture.

So many tenses, illnesses, common senses--
can we leave it at something simple,
something gentle, and can you take it to heart?

(rd)