“Dear world I will no longer have your babies”
But you can’t have them in the first place—
I think. My friends post the strangest shit online,
and everyone chimes in, but no one notes the inability
of my friend’s male anatomy to carry a kid anywhere
besides the crook of his arm or the crest of his hip.
All of a sudden I want to have this man’s baby.
He’s married, a pair of toddlers keep him busy—
And I don’t want his sex, just a set of chromosomes.
It’s like the groupon is going to expire, and I have
to leap now. He’s a good man, I should ask. I wonder
why he writes, dear world—
Did too many of our lesbian friends
send him secret requests on linen stationary:
Give us your sperm! Or is this just the way we
announce things now, mini-virtual vasectomy parties:
Celebrate! Look folks, I’m sterile! I’m done.