Cradled between merry-go-round
and satellite,
the first words
he would say to her
were an insult
wrapped inside
an error becomes erotic
presumption blanketed
with snotty affection.
Is it a deep blue
sleeveless floral button-down baby
doll dress
with a collar, or
a maternity
jumper? Didn’t your mother
teach you
it isn’t
polite to ask
if a woman is
knocked-up? To her face?
As she dances? To your music?
Damn, boy! Is it mine? Just you wait and see.