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What lengths must my children go to rebel when I'm 50 by Dave Zappala
published in Volume 1, Issue 4 on September 15th, 1994

I can see it now
I'll be a successful door-to-door existentialist
and at one point my children would have refered to me as 'dada'
and I would have sterilized their wounds with a painful,
burning solution,  so they could feel it working
and I'll vote religiously
and my wife will be president
and our first cat would be able to defy gravity
hovering around the living room like that
I'll be crazed and happy,  riding my bicycle around town
collecting treasures and offering bites off my sandwiches
Harvey,  of course,  will be gluing cherrystone clams together
in a big ball and dropping it off the roof every March 9th.
Ahh Bliss.  One great orgasmic sneeze.
So what could my sweaty teenagers do
to undermine my society?
get boring, get serious, get symbolic
get,get,get, get,get, get
Fah!  I used to run around spinning a peach basket over my head
because everything looked like an old movie
and I used to come home and my mother wouldn't believe my story
of how I got splinters in my shoulders.
Nothing mattered much then when DuPont kept exploding like that
rattling and breaking dishes,  a crack down every ceiling in town
people died then and the rest died a year after they retired
my older brother thought there was a war with DuPont
and I fell onto a floor scattered with Leggos
however I have no Leggo scars to show
I'll be prepared on all sides for their adolescent angst
From that damned music and their drop-out friends
except for one thing...
That damned food in their hair
Kidney beans,  sauces,  and other condiments just rotting
and dried into their stiff locks
No,  they just get into the car
spend more money to symbolize the waste of our system
Maybe I should've slapped 'em around
They were always strange
They had to be the kid who would eat anything for a nickel
when they could've at least got a dime.

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