(With apologies to the Beatles)
“Show respect to your elders,”
the elders used to say,
standing row by row
as I walked down the corridor
of life carrying my hammer deep inside
my bony bosom, because
there was no where else to hide it.
I heard them out in silence
when I dearly would have loved
to have brought it down
on their wisely nodding heads. Instead
I took to listening to ‘Maxwell’s Silver Hammer’
over and over again.
I believed them
though they must have
been old fogies
by the time I got my personal set
of ants in my pants.
The little bastards are still around. And,
I don’t bother
to tell my kids to show respect.
I show them my hammer instead.