Hullabaloo

Things would get a little more fascinating             when the babies got sick:

when fret would flip me open

like a latch. If the babies were hot             I would warily

undress them. If the babies were dry

I would just as cagily but with             my own body

feed them. And if the babies threw up

I would sponge them all over             with a little lawless washing rag.

This is how I would get out of myself,

where in case you were wondering             I am regrettably rapt.