by Les Wicks.
Good children don’t run away.
Clothed in guilt, a dire stripe,
they know life is dance steps
watch their parents’ fatigued waltz
& speak only when there’s nothing to say.
Wicked children think twice
before they come inside.
Bad kids turn around too often.
Treacherous doors fake open
no one slaps anymore but
somehow there’s a canning process —
bright jeep tins
sugar & tepid heat
love you honey
take you everywherezero.
Good children never disappoint
laws will be named after them,
their fines will always rhyme.
They believe inside lines
& will go on to lay more.
Jacqui tried to be
lied to be.
But.
Because fixed on something bright
she lit fires.
Jacqui excelled in edges
we naughty folk love her.