The Care and Feeding of Your Human: A Guide for Parents (Chris Hayes

The Care and Feeding of Your Human: A Guide for Parents (Chris Hayes - Lafayette, LA)

The small being entrusted to you will be helpless at first,

Totally dependent upon you for care.

Familiarize yourself with its cries and behaviors.

Be sure to keep it clean and comfortable,

And feed it at regular intervals.

Love your human unconditionally.

Your human will acquire information

From its surroundings at astonishing speed,

And will soon make its preferences known.

Offer a wide variety of palatable foods,

Most of which it will refuse to eat.

If this happens too often, offer gummy vitamins.

Although you should provide a structured environment

And communicate your expectations clearly,

It is important not to behave in a punitive or controlling fashion.

Although it may be more difficult to do so at this point,

Love your human unconditionally.

As your small human gains knowledge and skills,

Granting freedom and independence while at the same time

Providing a safe place to return when the world feels unsafe

Will allow it to develop into a capable young adult.

Your charge should be mostly self-feeding at this point.

Keep the freezer full of pizzas

And the pantry stocked with ramen noodles.

Avoid trying to force your human to conform to your expectations.

Although it may seem an impossible task at times,

Love your human unconditionally.

As your human reaches maturity, it is reasonable

To expect it to feed you from time to time.

Your most difficult challenge will be

To transition from caretaker to supportive companion.

Continue to love your human unconditionally.

Indefinitely.

Unreservedly.

Proudly.

Chris Hayes

“Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends.”

1 Corinthians 13:4–8a (ESV)

Comments

Come Hither (Annette Redmond Walters - Lafayette, LA)

I meant it not this way but the tears just flow and my makeup smearing all the more, leaving behind that familiar filthy residue. I may have begun to drive myself away, dragging you down as well. But it's done, I've flipped the switch and now it's dark once more. How painful is the music to my ears, I can't stand to be alone in it, yet here I am again. I pray you fly back and safely and warmly to me, though I fear I've dug the grave too deeply. As the dirt shifts within my soul, I choke on those loving words I'd meant for you. All the fragments of light I see becoming smaller and I wish to be near you in your embrace that might make me feel the warmth I'm missing. And in reality, I doubt I'd breathe another breath without you. So come hither and quickly soothe my dying heart, you are the only cure I know. I cry and cry again, come hither to heal and love me. Come hither and help me dry my tears.

Let That Fucker Burn (John Chenvert - Napoleonville, LA)

Let that fucker burn. Let the fire crackle like the whips once did— like bone meeting leather, like screams swallowed by the trees. Let the white columns crumble to ash. Not as tragedy— but as truth, unearthing itself from beneath generations of silence. Nottoway is not a mansion. It’s a mausoleum. A lie carved in stone to honor the hands that held the whip, not the backs that bore it. They called it the “White Castle.” A place of beauty. A place for weddings, for photo ops, for pretending that horror can be made elegant if the curtains match the guilt. But no paint can cover what happened there. Blood doesn’t wash out with white linens. And pain doesn’t forget just because you renamed it history. I’m not Black. And I won’t pretend to carry that weight. But I also won’t ignore it. My people—the Guanches—were taken too. Our language silenced. Our land stolen. Our names nearly erased. So yes, I know colonization. Yes, I know what it means to be disappeared. But I also know this— my skin ...

The Peculiar New Room (Nick Perere - Baton Rouge, LA)

A peculiar fourth room has appeared in my three bedroom abode. High ceilings Higher than any ceiling in the house Perfectly pristine whitewashed gallery walls The largest window one can imagine Stretching from floor to ceiling Wide as an ocean’s horizon Revealing the lushest greenery and the bluest skies. I am meant to show masterpieces here. But in one of the corners o f the perfectly pristine whitewashed gallery walls i s an ugly patch of dirt. Dirt darker than charred coal. And the dirt is crawling And multiplying. With their spindly legs and dangly antennae Vermin covered in filth and willingly ready to spread their germs Scuffing the perfectly pristine whitewashed gallery walls. But I have to move on, I have a gallery to exhibit. Smile and act as if nothing is wrong. Come. Enjoy the show. Enjoy the artwork hanging Upon the perfectly pristine whitewashed gallery walls.

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