maybe the women are right about us
after an evening of glowering at my daughter
for such heinous offences
as having spilled milk
(i nearly cried over it)
eating her brother's baby food,
and tipping over her chair
with herself in it
i hold her on my lap
while i read her
an illustrated hansel and gretel.
viewing the last page, she says,
"is their father a girl?"
and i say, "no, of course not;
their father is a man."
and she says, "he must be a girl."
and i say, "why can't he be a man?"
and she says, "because he's smiling."
- Gerald Locklin