Infantile Goggles Poem by Chris Jibero

With my photochromic goggles
Viewed I my nuclear family
In the moon
Mama gladly singing me a lullaby
On her warm shoulders
My enforced perching boulders
With deep receptacles for my streamy tears

Energetically and merrily doing
A virgin song and dance at a corner
Are my older siblings
Unmindful of the cares of the world

And confidently standing behind us
Like Mount Zion
Is Papa
Quietly bemoaning his unsung manliness.

(c) Chris Jibero. 1984.