Tin-foil

Mama taped tin foil
to my window when
I was just a child,
she thinks
that is why I grew up
so impulsive and wild.

She told me aliens
were waking me at night,
either that or the
ambient light
reminded me at two
to the knowledge
I could scream like
Richard Simmons on speed.

She tells me now
I produced magnetic fields
to stun small animals
and shop assistance alike
and how
she never took me
to J C Penney
for fear of the damage
my tantrums might inflict.

I could simulate a
freshly caught fish,
slip my way out
of my stroller
and lie prostrate
on the marble slab
of floor.

But now I know
the tin foil was
just a front for
poor parenting and
a dysfunctional family.
I turned out just fine
and children? – mine
are models of perfection
with no tin foil window
covering up my pretention.

Survivoer poem - poet's choice - trigger 36