Baby Wash, October 23, 1962
For Jeanne
While Cuba waited
My mother-in-law wept
Into the washing machine
She thought her three boys
Might never grow
To be anyone’s husbands
If those men with missiles
Exchanged swelling clouds of ash
Across the seas
All the bedtimes, nap times, mealtimes,
Lullabies, purées and games
Would vanish in a single flash
But if those idiots don’t do it
She thought, I’ll need clean diapers
So she did what women do
Mix your tears with soap and bleach
Turn the dial to extra hot
Press go
~ Kimberly Gladman ~