The Pipe, the Plants, and the Misdemeanor: a Pantoum of ‘72


Little pipe in the pocket of his corduroy trousers!
He is 11. We live in Ann Arbor.
Wishing I were a wiser mother,
I ask him to explain what I found in the hamper.

He is 11, and the city of Ann Arbor
is throbbing with teach-ins. I’m writing a thesis on King Arthur.
I ask my kid to explain what I found in the hamper,
“Don’t worry Ma, I’ve been trying to cut down.”

I teach-in.  I march. I write pages on King Arthur.
I let the kid keep his plants near the window.
“Don’t worry Ma. I’ve been trying to cut down.”
Possession here is subject to a five-dollar fine.

He keeps his spindly plants by the window.
At times, he lights a leaf in the pipe in the park.
Possession here is subject to a five-dollar fine.
One evening, as I work on the dissertation,

a leaf is aglow in the pipe in the park,
and a couple of cops pick him up, bring him home.
They find, not a woman working on her dissertation,
but a mother and her son in evident possession.

A couple of cops pick him up, bring him home
with a pipe in the pocket of his corduroy trousers
and his educated mother in flagrant misdemeanor.
He’s a minor. She is old enough to be a wiser mother,

and owes five dollars to the City of Ann Arbor.