Going Stupid
You think of yourself as
intelligent, somewhat wise
to the world
then one day
the baby makes porpoise sounds
and you end up answering in kind
You think of yourself as
cultured, a little particular
then begin to discuss seriously
the implications of shit
(the diaper turned this way and that
and read like a tea-cup)
A belch is not Beethoven
Vomit is not the same on your shirt
as a medal
Once you were postmodern
now without a trace of irony
you utter the chestnuts
the one about doting on the first child
the one about being taken out of yourself
the one about love not divided
but multiplied