Aubade For My 18-Year-Old Son As I Wonder What He Will Do With His Life Besides Playing Video Games
He says college is a waste of time,
& maybe it’s true if it takes ten hours
to write a paragraph about why college
is valuable. The irony. But he stays up
all night to make a hundred bucks helping
others level up on Destiny. I want him to
level up in life, but the keyboard is glued
to his fingers, mouse clicking like termites
scratching under the floor. Brain pulses
confine him to his room, warmed not by
electricity or the moon’s afterglow, but
by dopamine hits every game bestows. The sun
streams in, but can’t interrupt the divine blue
that soothes, that affirms I know, I know.
*
Susan Michele Coronel was nominated twice for a Pushcart. Her poems have appeared in numerous publications including Spillway 29, TAB Journal, Inflectionist Review, Gyroscope Review, Prometheus Dreaming, and Thimble. Her first full-length manuscript was a finalist in Harbor Editions’ 2021 Laureate Prize. She lives in New York City with her children.
“mouse clicking like termites under the floor.” oh such an image–and that feeling, of the foundation being destroyed. This is such a powerful poem, and I feel the worry and love and helplessness. Beautiful internal rhymes and images of light–and I love the 14-line sonnet miss of it, seems another nod to the changing times.