when your 10 year old boy sits
down at his own computer and
conceives a poem better than
anything you have written in
months you begin to feel weird.

particularly so when it is lousy
with wonderment about bad things
he perceives that might have
been done and hopeful that he
might someday win.

naturally you accuse him of
plagarism because it's too damn
good. he cries and you feel
like a real dick. you say you
were just kidding and the tears
subside but his chin just doesn't
seem to level out.

but you know the merits of being
good with words and you can see
that this is something he likes
to do, you hope anyway, it has
to more than just wanting to be
like you.

so you encourage and wish he was
old enough to hear the warnings
that writers should be told before
they get to excited about the whole
thing. remember to look up their
skirts and not in their heads.
sometimes it just is what it is.
booze and chemicals seem to really
get the juices flowing but it's a
lie and they will fucking ruin
everything. it's much safer to
dream up the madness than to go and
find out for yourself. love one
another and not your pen.

you tell him you are still the
king. you will see his poem and
raise him one. go and write your
balls off kid, just be careful
where you tread. It will be much
more important than anything you
will have said.