This Species has to be Killed in its Infancy by Bogdan Dragos

the kid

handed him a piece of

paper and asked,

“Can we put this one

on the fridge?”

It wasn’t a drawing

“What’s this?” he asked

There were words

written on it

I am getting in my car

and I’m driving very far

Following the star

of my dreams

It seems

my destiny awaits

as all good things in small crates

So I’m ready to unpack

hoping it’s not something wack

I want the best of the best

The sun on the sky

I’ll be a writer with a vision

in my eye

“A poem?”

“Yes, a poem,” said the kid. “Can

we put it on the fridge

along with the drawings?”

The father stared at it

for a long time

Finally, he crumpled the

paper and said, “Let’s not

do that.”

“But… why not?”

Dad looked very troubled,

trying to squeeze

an answer

and getting only…