which as a little girl, you might remember
mother of ours delivered the most fun on Earth
slight hyperbole, but she reveled in the role
(she seemed perfectly cut out for),
especially with a slender girth
adding a dimension of heat to the hearth
when intimation of colder weather arrived
bundling us kids able, eager,
willing and ready for mirth
jimmying heads, shoulders,
knees and toes with clothes
clad from Woolworth
from general \"five-and-dime\" goods
to more specific products like toys,
electronics, clothing, and music.
She (more-so than dad) hosted
that day celebrating the occasion of our debut
pronounced as /dāˈbyo͞o,ˈdāˌbyo͞o/
with umpteen goods,
which habitual and feigned surprise,
and as we aged an expectation
to to be feted arose
yearly acknowledgements did hew
an unbridled excitement
thwarting any conspiracies
if possible entry into
this webbed wide world
omitted likelihood of coup d\'é·tat
if so, the diversion would be called off.
As we clocked more miles
on the oblate spheroid
that rotated around the nearest star
notated with pricier trappings
by updating chronological calendar
variations of themes became
more sophisticated and costly
yet certainly reasonable
compared to small fortune
doled out from wealthy parents
whose liberal largesse
(excelled a small fortune)
spent on either their children
to youth inching closer
to that arbitrary number
considered to be
a significant milestone of adulthood.
As a young grown man aloof
still living under same roof
as father and mother
who no doubt
wished my presence absent with a poof
cuz of mine behavioral antics
demanded me to seek out
psychological intervention
and shuck off unkempt appearance
the energy level displayed
yet excruciating effort to commingle
with family members
and (as an aside),
those teens who transcended
social maturation usually served
as sterling examples regarding
effectively donning the guise
to be among happy and shiny people ,
truth be told, I envied you
dear Shari and Amelie
for adjusting to the mandate
to succeed at academia and employment,
but a ghostly agony
finding safety within the boundaries
of four bedroom walls,
or splaying myself
across a section of the roof
found me in a safe haven
from bubbling chronic anxiety
triggering irritable bowel syndrome
and palmar hyperhidrosis.