Original Sin

Baby is unique
                               untainted, original
 
                                               We know she is special
 
 
Every baby is
 
She arrives without baggage to hamper
         
                her way through tunnels or time
 
but she demands attention
 
                              AND HOW
 
Baby
               means to survive
 
aims to be fed, changed, bathed
 
                                                           resorting to no more than a cry
                                             a squirm
 
 
               I observe Baby
now that she
 
                               breathes on her own
 
I swear I’ll keep copious notes
 
  I’ll invite her for dinner or lunch
                                                               for a glug of lukewarm milk
 
I vow to take good care          I WILL
 
Why, then, does she bathe in the sink
 
 
                No one, not a single one, close by to lift her out
 
 
Why, then, does she not grow
 
Neglected Baby                    Pauvre Enfant
 
 
I have asked Baby to forgive me
 

Baby, Baby stay          Baby, Baby stay
 
Do not become a stab in my brain
 
                              a chronic ache
a shrouded shout
                              a question mark laid out
 
in the morgue
 
                              daily vivisection
 
vapor-spiral woe going mad
beyond control though the venue is small
                                 and it doesn’t matter where one sleeps
 
 
There is evil in the world
 
It awaits Baby
 
Sins                              even Sloth
                               fiesta through hills and vales
 
               each time she is born
 
 
Morals and meanings stumble
 
                             but Sins know how to tango and tap
 
They make nimble partners
                               on the ballroom floor
 
Like tigers
 
        they stalk their prey
 
                                                      Lead, follow, tight embrace
 
Baby in a frame, a pose
                              in a box
 
 
Tricky moves
                              l
                              a
                              n
                              g
                              u
                              i
                              d               obambulations
 
                                               warm morning          sunny day
 
One, two, three, four         one, two, three, four
 
We touch, we part
 
                                        We yearn for tender mores
 
 
Baby beware
              Baby be quick
 
Jump for the sky
 
                 Match to your flame
 
Watch the flares fly
 
                                                                           Baby, there’s scorch here
 

Copyright Credit: Anna Rabinowitz, "Original Sin" from Words on the Street.  Copyright © 2016 by Anna Rabinowitz.  Reprinted by permission of Tupelo Press.
Source: Words on the Street (Tupelo Press, 2016)