You could call this one “the mom rap”. On the way to work this morning I saw a woman pushing a baby carriage while walking her little dog on a leash. Efficient, I thought. A happy image. The little dog was certainly happy anyway. The mom? You don’t really know. Her pace looked a little mechanical. One person’s happy excursion is another person’s nullifying obligation. Maybe she’d rather be running. Maybe she’d rather be designing spacecraft, or coding software, or doing whatever it was she used to do that required more than 20 minutes of uninterrupted concentration. Don’t let the books with pink and blue covers and curly writing and gauzy madonna photos in the background fool you. Motherhood is not the same for everyone.
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Walk the Baby Walk the baby Have a baby He doesn’t care. He’s never there. He says his money (and so would I, and so would I, at something else.) But all my time No flow of words No time to write, no end in sight. You tell the doctor Why should you lie? Walk the baby It may be best. |
Poolside Laureate 