Poetry

Published on April 9th, 2014 | by Eve

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POEMS by EVE

Two Week Wait

It starts the minute you’ve finished

breath still moving fast

cunt pulsing.

The hope:

This time it will happen.
This time it will take.

This time will be the last time –

you will move on to bigger worries,

buying car seats,

paying for childcare,

where to put the crib.
It doesn’t stop there.

Days later you’re counting:

the months to discover

the hypothetical being

would be an Aries or a Taurus,

calculating how a theoretical birth

might overlap with Jewish holidays

or summer vacation.

You’re watching pregnant co-workers

Dreading seeing the pictures

evidence of what they have accomplished

Wondering how you’ll make the announcement

Wondering how you’ll tell clients.

 

You carefully avoid beer

sushi caffeine artificial

sweeteners ibuprofen hot tubs

happy to be exempt from changing cat litter

hoping your diligence will be rewarded.

 

By the time two weeks have gone by

you’ve almost started to believe

it could happen

it could be true

 

But you buy tampons

just in case.

calendar-shot

The Moment at Whole Foods When I Realized I’m a Mother

I’m wandering the tofu and fake meat section

when the announcement comes:

“Will Eve Lyons please come to the information desk?”

In  panic I push through shopping carts and yuppies,

already envisioning a rush to the ER.

Sure something is terribly wrong with our two month old son,

why else interrupt my weekly grocery shopping,

what could be so important that it can’t wait till I am home –

only to get the news:

Our vegetable peeler broke.

I’m confused at first,

unsure why this required paging me.

I put it together eventually –

No vegetable peeler means no carrot salad,

which changes our dinner plans for tonight,

the Sunday night of all Sunday nights,

since tomorrow I go back to work,

leaving our son for six long hours.

Relieved, I pick up a peeler,

go home to my spouse and child,

prepare for a lifetime more

of moments like these.

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Things We Can Learn From Newborns

Babies live in the moment,

our mohel told us

just before she made the ceremonial cut

Now the moment is passed.

 

Time has a different meaning

when you are a newborn,

when you are with a newborn.

Things that used to take five minutes

now take thirty.

You can be sobbing uncontrollably,

soothed and comforted a minute later.

 

When you’re hungry,

you eat.

You scream

until someone feeds you.

 

When you’re cold

from the bath or the breeze

you wrinkle up your nose

or whimper.

 

When you’re uncomfortable,

you stretch and wiggle.

When you need to fart or burp

you let it out.

It’s not good to hold these things in.

 

You wail when we clean your butt

or when we don’t feed you fast enough

But you hold no grudges

once we’ve made our amends.

 

It’s good to be loved

It’s good to be wanted

It’s good to be held.

www.pindippy.com

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About the Author

Eve

Eve is a poet, fiction writer, and playwright whose work has appeared in LilithPoeticaNew Vilina ReviewConcho River Review, as well as many other literary magazines and several anthologies.   She is also a mother and lives in Boston with her spouse and her son.



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