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No, don’t
do it. Why?
Not diapers, everything underfoot, sleep lost to teething.
None of that matters, any more than the spanking of mud
from a cab spinout on your way to the interview--so you don’t
get the job. After the hot bath, the tall drink, it becomes
a story to recall late at night among friends.
No, don’t do it because love like this hurts
in a new way that is always with you
(like being bald on a sunny day--you can’t forget your hat).
And the enemy will know the one thing
they can hold over you--
as in Orwell, the rats.
First published in Crazyhorse. Copyright © Diane K. Martin
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