Size / / /

I'd do the diapers.

Using formula would be a blow,

I will admit, but I'll make do

with Einstein videos

to keep the child's IQ up.

Just let me have a baby.

I'm not the type of man

who needs a son,

testosterone dictating

that my genes be writ

into posterity. Fatherhood

is what I crave, training wheels,

bandaids, burnt meatloaf,

and the chance to change one life

in ways my own was not.

Just let me have the baby.

I'll do anything, make gold

from straw, give up my name

three times.

I know so many lullabies.

Just let me hold it, once.




Mary Alexandra Agner writes of dead women, telescopes, and secrets. Her poetry, stories, and nonfiction have appeared in The Cascadia Subduction ZoneShenandoah, and Sky & Telescope, respectively. She can be found online at http://www.pantoum.org.
Current Issue
18 Sep 2023

Ama’s arm rested protectively around the girl’s shoulder as the giant bird glided above, its head angling right to left. Violet-black wings soared across a cloudless sky, blocking the sun’s midday rays and swathing sections of the village in deep shadow. Given its size, this argentavis was one of her first, but too far above for her to differentiate by name. Even across the distance, Ama could feel its heartbeat synced to hers, their lives intertwined until death.
She is leaving the world that is pink with desire, on her gray cardboard rocket ship.
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