My Dear Child

My Dear Child

Before you were born—

if you raised your binoculars,

if you could peep

through the keyhole of life

Would you open the door

and walk right through?

Or would you run back

and change your race and face

or tone up your skin,

adjust your height,

shed some weight

add longer hair?

Would you join

the club of the rich

dressed in the latest fashions

riding the posh cars?

Would you get yourself a gun

just to be sure

or trust the state to protect you

from the street,

from family and friends

and lurking foes and fears?

What gender would you embrace;

what sexuality,

gay, hetero-straight or nonbinary,

trans, asexual and pan,

a bar-stalking gigolo

or man-eating mamba?

Would you be a teacher,

burglar, lawyer or healer

or would you simply

hold a pan and beg?

And you must decide

your manner of death

since you have to return

from this intriguing world:

is it death by drowning,

some freak car accident,

war, whoring, drinking and eating

or sleeping quietly in your bed?

Or would you lower your binoculars

and freak out, muttering:

Lord have mercy,

I ain’t going in there, thanks?

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