When you came out the womb

I couldn’t understand you were ours.

A beautiful, shrieking stranger with

Big cheeks and a baby underbite.

But when I look at you,

I tear up like a the first start of a spring river.

So precious, you’re just a bundle of chub love I never want to leave.

As you sleep for twenty hours a day,

I’m rubbing together minutes like Bob Cratchet saving for Christmas.

Mother’s Day #2

Dad hung up on me

When he went to Kohl’s,

Buying baby clothes for a

Grandchild he thought he’d

Only buy legos.

Sometimes he has to be quiet

For mom to step in.

On Sunday, instead of brunch in bed,

We smoothed our nursery

with car seat polish.

Took diaper pail armour and

Plated the crib in sheets.

We only wish our missing women

Could see the castle

And the Dino onesies flying standard

Like chubby cheek promises.

I am only those I love

I wish every person knew how grateful I was

for their Christmas gifts.

But thank you is two words too quiet.

Thank you is not I love you

I love you is everything.

I want to scream somewhere high all

the red flood of the love in here.

A wise woman taught me I don’t have to say everything to be understood.


It seems impossible that anyone could know

what it feels like.

So I wrote it down

In pieces.

And hope it gets close.


I’m gonna be a dad

All these nervous parents

Are worried about everything.

I am electric excited.

Excited for sleepless nights,

Constant confusion and

Getting it a little more right every day.

Give me the shit-filled diapers and

The helplessness of parenthood.

Make me humble all over again.

I want to fuck it up over and over and


Laugh at this new life, part my own body,

But separate and whole.