The kid's been occupying a waiting room now for five days and four nights awaiting psychiatric hospitalization. His adoptive parents are locked in there with him. He's a teenager with a history of sexual trauma in infancy, mild mental retardation, and he's somewhere on the autistic spectrum. His hormones are raging, and he can't control himself, directing it toward his mother, sister and pet. None of the psychiatric facilities in the entire state are willing to accept him. This is not unusual. On any given day, there are kids like this. Stuck.
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
A Song For Early Spring
I equate this song with the arrival of Spring for some reason. The waking is welcome but somehow painful. And he sings it just as smooth as you please.
The Continuing Adventures of Jack
Jack received his first pair of glasses yesterday and is pretty tickled. He thinks they're very cool. He doesn't need glasses, however, to see his new friends George and Alissa (reportedly ages 4 and 2) who travel with him everywhere. Snaily is another member of Jack's posse, a wooden snail on wheels with a pull string, who also goes everywhere with him. Jack couldn't find him this morning despite the fact that he took Snaily to bed with him last night. I asked Jack if he thought Snaily may have crawled off somewhere. He gave me a dirty look and said, "maybe he didn't like this place !"
Monday, April 4, 2011
Don't Fade Away
You're dying here with the quiet kids in some gesture of solidarity. Anyone who stopped to look could see that you have stifled the process of your own blossoming on principle. You know this thing is tragic, you feel it all the way down, all this flowering brilliance not coming into being. The quiet rooms are half-filled with those who do not seek your eyes and find solace on the floor, in the corners with the dust and chipped flakes of wax. You are there for the anesthesia, if you're honest, as much as for love of the beau geste. The sun will find you, I pray, and unfold you, and you will become the you that you must. That road is difficult and dangerous and beautiful to behold. You have all my faith.
Friday, April 1, 2011
Spring Snow
Chinese, he speculated, as she came out of the building a few feet in front of him ahead of a very small dog on a very long leash. Thank eyouoooo, she said from behind an exaggerated smile and he was both puzzled and awkwardly apologetic for happening to be white and walking right there at that moment. His thoughts were immediately tackled and hog tied, after breaking free and jumping up and down behind the windows of his eyes for a moment, but that little dog saw, and knew, and hated the man.
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