"When I Write a Song"

When I write a song
I make a baby.

Blind coitus
Plants a seed
And nothing can stop gestation.

This and that
And this and that
Go on for months,
But baby grows, and stretches,
Grows, and kicks
Then sucks her stubby thumb
Awhile.


In time, squash-faced and squalling,
And beautiful to me,
She’s here
Not completely formed

But in time,
And dressed in tuneful clothes,
What a joy – she is.

So sweet
With her wide eyes
And chubby cheeks


Want to see her picture?