I don't know if I'm back, but I'm trying...

I've been too busy parenting to write about parenting.
However, while Sam is cramming kale puffs into his face (really, kale puffs. I'm not making that up), I offer a poetic interlude for the holidays. This was originally written for an engagement party for Sam's Uncle Billy and his Aunt (soon-to-be-official Aunt) Allison that happened right before Christmas:

My Strain
by Sam John "Ginsberg" Nessel
With help from daddy.
And with apologies to Ferlinghetti, Snyder, Dunbar, and pretty much everyone else.

On the occasion of this auspicious gathering
And for posterity
I'd like to take a moment to reflect
On regularity
Mama
Bring me my prunes

I like my whole grain cereal
And my pureed vegetable medley
But they block me Mama
They block me
I'm stifled
Mama
Bring me my prunes

My board books are the work of others
My blocks were promising
But they're just a metaphor
Mama
Bring me my prunes

You laugh at my labors
You mock my toil
My imperative to create
My strain
Mama
Bring me my prunes

Monkeys playing rock-a-bye
And pretty pictures on my wall are hollow distractions
I'm cold Mama I'm cold
I need to warm myself
Mama
Bring me my prunes