fmb0033
"Passion"
by Caili Wilk
My two-year-old son crushed
his cherished Mac the truck
box today. He loved that box
with such vigor, such uncontrollable
passion, he all but annihilated it.
Mommy, unsquash it--
his eyes naive and expectant.
I did my best, but the sides
were bashed in, and besides,
it can't stand alone anymore.
Tomorrow when I throw it away,
my son will cry, my box, my box,
I want my box. I will lament
with him--for him, for me.
The toy truck is shiny still,
standing with a permanent
smirk. We never learn.
Caili Wilk is a student and hopes to graduate one day, though probably not in May. She was born and raised in the UK, but after almost 13 years in California, sometimes she is mistaken for an Australian.
by Caili Wilk
My two-year-old son crushed
his cherished Mac the truck
box today. He loved that box
with such vigor, such uncontrollable
passion, he all but annihilated it.
Mommy, unsquash it--
his eyes naive and expectant.
I did my best, but the sides
were bashed in, and besides,
it can't stand alone anymore.
Tomorrow when I throw it away,
my son will cry, my box, my box,
I want my box. I will lament
with him--for him, for me.
The toy truck is shiny still,
standing with a permanent
smirk. We never learn.
Caili Wilk is a student and hopes to graduate one day, though probably not in May. She was born and raised in the UK, but after almost 13 years in California, sometimes she is mistaken for an Australian.
posted by Faulty Mindbomb at 7:02 PM
1 Comments:
Too bad he squashed the truck,
He had faith in mommy, but ran out of luck,
The truck is a truck no more,
he will forever lament his crime of passion until you find yourself back at the toy store. ...
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