New Baby

Our new baby,
a darling of the Universe,
grows tusks and unionizes.
Now, feedings are disastrous, injuries frequent.
Now, everything must be negotiated, from emotional forays to bottle temperature.

An intermediary is sent in,
but gets into the baseboards
and turns the TV into a homing beacon for her bitchy friends.

All we wanted was a child,
a sentient bit of fluff to dandle and imbue with various undemonstrated virtues and qualities.
Not tusks that send dentists howling into madness.
Not wildcat strikes with their attendant rancor and bloodshed.

Please baby, we say.
Please be normal.
A telegram arrives, from our baby.
We are terrified to read what it says.
______

for "Different Perspectives" at Real Toads.

Astrid

Some come sweet, from woman born,
not cradled by the briar thorn
and grow with sun and time that passes
not bitter like blackstrap molasses--

Astrid from the fire came
veiled and silent, sharp as cane
she makes you want her without trying
cloaked in all that's dank and dying,

Yet seeming skinned with fire's ember
red as rot in late September--
kiss her, call her, blister sweetly;
give yourself to her completely--

Astrid by the stone fence waiting
phosphor-bright and emanating
promise made that only passes--
Astrid gone to ache and ashes.
_______

Incidentally, this is my 2,000th post at Word Garden.