santos scribes

I’d prefer to mince them:

like garlic;

pungent and clumsy, 

fingertips sticky

with innuendo and truth.

the words might linger,

might stay with you

long after their consumption.  

but since you asked

and honestly, I think it’s time you knew,

I don’t play.

and not for the reason you’re thinking,

not because I’m a grown-up 

and have better things to do with time

but rather because

I never really learned how.

play isn’t something that comes up a lot

in a story like mine.

play isn’t something I did much of

as a kid

or got the hang of 

or how in effect to get the hang of,

nevermind enjoy.  

as a result,

I experience “play” as an unnatural, somewhat forced state of being- it feels mostly awkward and a bit irrelevant for me-

like wearing a stranger’s dirty tennis shoes on two left feet.

I’m also not totally convinced

of its benefits either. 

but we could try

you know, since you asked?

and so earnestly!

should we start with (bored) games?

okay I’ll go first: 

hungry hippo(s)-

(too relatable),

monopoly-

(all that paper money! ugh)

LIFE- (no comment)

OK, what about dress-up then?

or playing house?

(there has been entirely too much make-believing going on thus far, so no need to add more faux mothers or daughters to the mix, thanks)

and now before you even think to ask,

the answer is no-

playgrounds do absolutely nothing

for me either

(except for the one time they caught that bastard at one)

but hear me out:

slides?

(too fast. (or) too steep, also ridiculous conductors of heat.)

wood-chips?

(too pointy.)

sand?

(requires toys.)

monkey bars?

(requires the one type of strength I don’t possess.)

see?!

now do you understand my

no play thing? 

(probably not)

either way consider my (play)case rested. 

the above and forementioned testimony does bog the question though: 

which is worse?

the child who never learns to play

or the adult that child grows up to become? 

serious answers only, below! 

about this poem

i love this poem! born from the writing prompt : “play with your words. be repetitive. pose a question or a riddle.” while playing truly isn’t something that comes naturally to me even now as a mother of two great kids, playing with my words has saved me too many times to count- I hope you enjoy reading this one just as much as I enjoyed writing it.. let me know (for real!) and thanks! xo, s.