the bad children

other people's children
are so bad.
so sticky
and unruly.
they bob about saying
things
with high pitched voices.
the burn of blue
eyes
staring at you
with guilt and suspicion,
yes, you old man.
they are a fingernail,
bitten down,
away from
doing something
wrong.
touching, gnashing,
mean
spirited already
before the world
has even sunk
its teeth into them.
these children, not yours,
of course,
but other people's,
they need to
stay inside,
away. from us.
lay down a road
of candy and video games
and steer them inside.