Voices Poem by Butch Decatoria

The mind is a fragile glob of a thing...
central command
controls to the push buttons.

...and there is a reason
why the surgeon-generals
scientist's with their lab-rats
witch-craft
place warnings
on cigarettes monoxide fumes

and reasons why
the educational systematic d.a.r.e.
warns of the downfall
having anti-drug
show and learn
with actual footage
films about imbibed catastrophes
needles punctures junkies
(show them,
they do not wince
they've become tolerant,
immune to their everyday occurrence
like morning coffee's
little push.)

Slides on red tape murder-scenes
angry D.A.D.D.
S.A.D.D. mothers
radical vehicular
AA
involuntary
man-slaughter N/A
under the influence teaching
prevention...

Although experience
is the best kind of good teacher
to be a child
is to be impetuous
and naive,
mistaken, even,
grievous
when i wish now
the voices that whisper
in my head
my name

tell them to
close the door

that keeps them out

behind
them...