Nursery School

I never try to force the narrative in my verse. I just want it to be what it is. Often a good poem comes from a tiny, simple place. This one came from my daughter's joy playing with frogs, and I combined that joy with a funny comment from a friend. This poem started as one narrative but since has become something different.

Nursery School

Candy, said the boy.

Cracked cell phones buy no candy, said the girl.

I want my eyes to be pennies that look into your heart, said the boy.

 You are my best friend

And you eat crackers from a bucket.

She said, if you were a woman and I was a man

I would make you sweep crackers or make spaghetti

Because you are not my best friend.

Her thoughts went to her mother, suitable dresses,

Tiny white lilies and lime green frogs.

You are a frog, the girl said.

Girls kiss frogs, the boy said.

I want to jingle your love with loose change, said the boy.
You are my best friend
But you only dream of small growling animals.

She said, if you were a father and I the mother

I would stuff my dress full of your nickels

And give nickels like gum drops to every stray dog.

Her thoughts went to puppies, dust mops,

Crumbs and bits of time across a kitchen.

Here is your cell phone, said the girl.

I am hungry.

I am a frog, said the boy.