Friday, June 14, 2013

In Praise of Counsel

Poetry Slam Dept.: Not that I haven't enjoyed my time on the alienist's couch, but it does seem as if we're lately unable to function in any capacity whatsoever without the salve of such sessions. At least that's how it seemed when I wrote this several years ago.

                                                                                   

(To the tune of “McNamara’s Band”)

O, MY BROTHER tried some fratricide when I was only three,
My father changed my underwear, my mother watched me pee;
I had a hunch I’d hate the bunch for what I’ve undergone,
But now that I’m in counseling, I know I led them on!


There’s a counselor for him and her, and one for little Jane;
There’s one for when you’re happy and there’s one if you’re in pain;
And on the street you’re bound to meet a counselor or two,
They counsel one another when there’s nothing else to do!

It’s a splendid thing, this counseling, it crawls into your mind,
You never know what secrets all the counseling will find;
What Doctor A may say today is like the third degree,
And then it’s contradicted when you talk to Doctor B!

O, it feels so good I'd hope you would consider what I say,
And find yourself a counselor to talk to every day
To ease your pain and dull your brain and make the world look nice –
Consider me a counselor, now take my damn advice!

– 24 January 2005

No comments:

Post a Comment