The Baby That Ate Cincinnati

		--Dedicated to those others who on telling people you're expecting your first
		child find they don't say "Congratulations," they first tell you how you're
		never leaving the house again ever.

Way they say it,
they say
			baby
like a storm on the way,
they say		baby
like that's the cue for the thunderclap
to interrupt the wolves' long howls,
they say		I got three
       	and they're the best
   ever happen to me
as they say
			baby
same as you'd say "run"
they shout
			baby
like there are flames lickin' at window frames

	        tell us
	  how their lives
	didn't just change,
	        oh no,

as
they
say
			baby
like a hyena inside there
comin' out fangs a-blazin',
they say
			baby
like it's standing
right
behind us
like it's a tornado on the highway,
			but ain't
		        it
		a marvel,

way they talk,
give that patronizing nod
when we
claim we still goin' to poetry readings,
we still goin' to see movies,
we still goin'
to phone our unwed friends
as they say
			baby
like a bomb in the air,
they say
			baby
like just waitin' in the shelter now
with AM radio and a can of pork n' beans

			you're so lucky,
they weep,
sincerely

as I sit on the bed,
knees held precious,
watching my wife's belly,
larger every day,
wonderin'
what's in there.

We gonna need a priest, a gun,
silver bullets, wire cutters, 16 gallons a hydrochloric acid,
Red Cross, National Guard, seven million dollars
in non-sequential unmarked bills
because all these warnings giftwrapped with blessings
when 	I	know

ain't gonna be the same around here;
but 

baby, 

when we say "baby,"
let's say it
like "bread,"
like "honey,"
like "beautiful,"
like "dear,"
like it's true.