Therapy Day

Thanking My Parts

Now I lay me down to sleep,

my equilibrium to keep.

I thank the parts that make me me

even when they disagree.

The part that prays,

the part that smokes,

the part that tells the dirty jokes,

the part that eats,

the part that reads,

the part that knows my carnal needs.
All the parts that make me tick

flash by me like a grade-B flick.

And if I die before I wake

I hope I get another take.

 

The Therapy Rag

First you do some primal screams

kill your mommy in your dreams

Find out who you really hate and

Separate separate separate.

Own your anger, watch the hooks

thrown out by emotion’s crooks.

Do you resent your daughter?

Well you know you oughter.

Doing the therapy rag.

I’m okay and so are you

To your own adult be true

Get rid of guilt, there is no sin, you’re

born to win, born to win, born to win.

Went to the bank took out a loan

and now my integrated self’s my own.

And when she sees me

Oh how she frees me

Doing the therapy

Demand you be fair to me

No one takes care of me

Doing the therapy rag.

 

Dan

Dan’s a man who looks like a boy

in a Gilligan hat

with penguins marching around the band.

With his eyes closed

he recites poetry he learned by heart

when he was a real boy.

He’s a psychiatrist now,

pear-shaped from sitting on

other people’s problems,

trying to hatch them

into something that can fly.