Above: I read the poem aloud.
The Instructions
Before age four
every child in my nation
is told clearly
the meaning of life.
You see,
the long-gone who birthed us
our master physiques (with our tool-making thumbs,
and our bipedal feet,)
secured also the key
that is stitched
in our mouths
before we even start
eating or grow in
our teeth.
Like little hands clumsy
little minds cannot grasp
the questions they’ll
face when they’re old:
What
am I
to do
here
with my life?
and
How
go about it?
and
Why?
What a shame,
by the time
we reach these
confusions, we forget
they’re long-ago
given solutions.
They are common strings
threading through