Amelia Foster wrote a baby poem
dignified, nose in the air
wide eyed, wet eared
shivers her way through the two-step
I can see inside of you.
You are a smooth and tender system.
Baby shows me more than the whites of her eyes.
I flip her all the way over
pancake on a griddle
butter spots, bloated cysts.
She skates her way across my palate
water on fur.
I haven’t a thing to do with my teeth, baby.
They keep rhythm
clench on the tines of the fork.