By Richard Wallace
My Baby Cries
Like scudding clouds,
precursors,
my bedroom ceiling
stares at me.
Hungry,
my baby cries.
*****
My husband
has gone to work.
My bedroom ceiling
stares at me.
Hungry,
my baby cries.
*****
My girlfriend
will soon be here.
Coffee and chatter,
wash my face,
hungry still
my baby cries.
*****
I nurse my baby
In the kitchen,
my blouse hangs
on my chair.
My friend
does not approve.
*****
I look at my emptied
flaccid breasts.
My baby sleeps
between them.
My friend says that
I am very brave.
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