Measurable Objective Published with Impspired Literary Magazine January 2020 poetry Here’s to my boys who romp and leap and conquer and think and ask and make and dig and search and joke and create and learn all of the ways to break things apart and build them new again.
Here’s to my boys who tolerate poetry but prefer swords and rocks and dirt and bikes and soaring over mound of snow and leaping off cliffs into quarries and huddling around fires at night.
And to you, my boys, I swear on my motherhood that I will never confine you to that which undoes you or attempts conformity in the name of supposed progress or measurement or any other such nonsense that attempts to hold you in place in a chair in front of standardized teeny circles on endless pieces of paper that mean nothing.
If all you ever learn is a measurable objective then I have failed you.