By Daniel Ruefman
My first thought was a Velociraptor,
so my progeny would have the speed and visage
to dominate whatever track, or field, or pitch;
but judging from the curve of my wife’s pubic bone
she may as well have a dolphin,
with mind enough to reason or socialize,
or swimming abilities that evade me still;
but considering the elasticity of her birth canal,
she may have something more like a gibbon, or baboon,
or orangutan, something with opposable thumbs,
dexterous digits to grab, or hold, or carry.
Or was your real question,
Do you know the sex of your baby?
Ask my wife if she knows;
find out if she cares.
Daniel Ruefman is a widely published poet, whose work has appeared in SLAB, Burningword, Temenos, Red Earth Review, Tonopah Review, Clapboard House, and others. He is the author ofBreathe Automatic, which was released by Finishing Line Press in 2014. He currently teaches writing at the University of Wisconsin-Stout.