IT WAS DIFFICULT TO LEAVE AMSTERDAM,
TO LEAVE HER,
BUT BY THIS TIME
MY NERVES AND DICK RUBBED SO RAW,
NO MORE EXCUSES FOR EITHER,
WE FLED HOME ACROSS THE WATERS.
ONE WEEK’S JETLAG BACK IN SEATTLE
WHEN HER EMAIL SAYS SHE’LL
CALL TOMORROW AT MIDNIGHT
“WELL, THAT’S OVER.”
CONVINCED SHE WOULD
DELIVER NEWS I SUSPECTED:
YET ANOTHER LONG DISTANCE RELATIONSHIP
BUILT AROUND A SULTRY ACCENT
BUMMING A CIGARETTE
DISSOLVES INTO NOTHING

NEXT WITCHING HOUR, HER CALL
A LITTLE SURPRISE CHANNELED THROUGH THE LINE,
SHE PROMISES IT CAN ONLY BE MINE.
--BUT DIDN’T MY DOCTOR SAY AT 20
MY MILK CURDLED IN THAT 60 MPH HIT & RUN?--
SHE PROBABLY WILL NOT
CERTAINLY CANNOT HAVE IT
HAS DEFINITELY NOT PICKED OUT NAMES,
AND WOULD I LIKE TO HEAR THEM?

MY STOMACH LIVE ELECTRIC EELS
IN A TUB OF SOUR DOUGH.
MIND MATINEE:
A B-GRADE DISASTER FLICK
FIRE CHIEF RUSHES INTO TOWN HALL AND
CRACKS OPEN THE SEALED
SUBCONSCIOUS EMERGENCY
PREGNANCY RESPONSE PLAN,
WHILE A VIRTUOUS MAN
NOBLY INFORMS HER IN MY VOICE:
“I ACCEPT RESPONSIBILITY FOR THIS CHILD
IF YOU CHOOSE TO HAVE IT.”
INTERCONTINENTAL TENNIS MATCH ENSUES.
“I SAID I PROBABLY WON’T HAVE IT!”
POSSIBILITIES WARM OUR HEARTS,
REALITY STIFFENS OUR TONGUES,
AGREE THIS IS TOO MUCH
TO DEAL WITH OVER THE PHONE.

I’M ON THE NEXT PLANE TO AMSTERDAM
A TUBE OF PRESSURIZED PANIC,
BLANKETS OF PRECISE WORRY