The Breakfast Table

She seems all right at breakfast

But you know later

You’re going to get a call

Leave work early

Go pick her up

Wait until you’re out of the car

Not in the driveway

Neighbors are watching

Neighbors know what’s up

When they see the car pull in

Midway through the day

Wait until you’re in the house

Then ask her

How much longer

This is going to--going to--

Your mother tells you

That you were the same way

And you know what?

Maybe she’s right

But when you called her

And told her

You needed to come home

She didn’t drop her cigarette

And come running

She told you to work it out

And you worked it out

Your mother talks like you were trouble

But she’s got no idea

What trouble looks like now

You can’t leave kids at school now

When they call

And say ‘Come get me’

The school won’t allow it

The other parent

The one who calls you

They won’t allow it

They won’t let you

Turn your back

Or force your daughter

To grow strong

On her own

No

You have to pick her up

You have to indulge her

You have to use positive language

Positive reinforcement

Happy time phrases

And smiles

And no grounding

Because there’s something
Wrong with her

There’s something wrong

That years ago

Would have just been beaten out of her

By some nuns or something

But not anymore

Now she’s precious

And you look at her the wrong way

Sixteen cops and social workers

Will be all over your ass like…

Like…

Send her to her room

She can handle that at least

Sit yourself down

At the breakfast table

And tell yourself

She was all right

At breakfast

Because she was

She was fine

But she never stays fine

For long

Instead, she waits

Until you think she’s fine

And then she pulls the tablecloth
And watches the fine china shatter

Everybody else thinks

This is normal

But you know

You know it’s not normal

That doesn’t mean

You think it calls

For these new measures

That wouldn’t have fixed you

And sure as hell

Aren’t fixing her

But let her stay in her room

You’re going to sit

At the breakfast table

And wait for it

To turn into the dinner table

And when the other parent

Looks at you

Then looks at her

And asks the two of you

What happened today

You’ll look at your daughter

And wait for her to say something

Because why should you say anything?

Who would want to listen to you

Anyway?