Today I began to hem,
rein in the threads that grow free
when left unstitched
I ticked a set of books
and, though I love my charges,
my heart hurt
My language is another,
my experience of this globe
unutterably different,
though geographically the same
And I want to help them play the game, I do,
but I don’t trust those
telling me how to
My instincts,
honed by humans I trust, unless
I’m lost in my own Truman Show,
show me the right way to go,
divergent from this current shitshow
The pedagogy of care
is somewhere way, way
over there