Not understanding a thing

For years I’ve read articles about adolescent brains,

focus and index finger meandering through twin studies

of fascinatingly pimply youths.

The surprising findings of physiological programming for all-

night gaming, morning conflicts, agreements made and lost

in reorganizing, rearranging neurons and synapses.

.

My time comes and sharp counsel from the uninitiated grates against

soothingly philosophical reminiscences from survivors,

because everyone knows the answers, but the questions aren’t clear.

Now, I just struggle from crisis to crisis in a heady cocktail of hormones

and philosophy, and self-questioning on paths I hadn’t planned to travel,

where I find myself looking up at my child and not understanding a thing.

.

.

Dhaka 2013

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