Conceit

I always say nothing, I am 13
years old and big as an elephant
doing homework when
I’m here and when
I’m not. I will be famous
for jack, and I like to eat
broccoli for breakfast.

I thought I liked myself enough
for the both of us, I certainly
liked you, and me, and thought
wrongly, of course, that it was enough.
It would have worked, if your
own disgust hadn’t been so great
as to envelope me, make me

believe I am absurd, all the things I love
frivolous. Sharp colored pencils, dancing
without music, the hum of my tires
on the road out of town.

This started from a list of questions I asked my son about me (posted on facebook, of course.) He is four and has an odd sense of the world. Then I just flipped through my notebook pulling out random things to throw in. So now it is sort-of a hodgepodge of thoughts pulled together.