(Because pudding is better than pie.)
Today I went with him to buy his first car.
Test drive down Lamar. Me
In passenger seat terrified
Because he’d had as much practice
As a camel in the air. And there we were
With shiny, new thing under his control
On busybusy street. Smooth ride, sold.
2012 Dodge Challenger, white.
Too machismo for my taste.
Inside felt like jail all hard and gray–
I couldn’t help hating it, but I love
To see lips curve in a smile.
He has hair above mouth now
And somehow he grew a man’s legs–
Longer than mine to match the too-big
Body I once bathed and dressed and fed
Hot sauce on a spoon. Ice in diapers but
Always only in the back and not for long.
I balanced out my cruel tricks–
Lullabies with head on shoulder,
Anne Rice and Blake before bed,
Always wearing something red
To keep the bad spirits from his dreams.
They like babies. He’s not a baby anymore
Making my stomach sore from laughing,
Attacked and held down and tickled
With no warning before the fight.
Not right that he can pick me up and
Spin me around and all I can do
Is shout for him to stop.
Not right, Clock.