New Parents at Feng Sushi
You’d think we’d fed the baby our wasabi.
My princely boy reposes in his pram,
filling the restaurant (indeed, the lobby)
with screams projected from the diaphragm.
(Watch out, Pavarotti!) We did try
amusing him, confusing him, and lifting
him up above the table for a fly
between sashimi bites. No use. No shifting
his evil-humoured weltschmerz. But at last
the caterwauling slows, then stops. What’s this?
A smile? Quick, honey, grab the iPhone fast!
Let’s show our Facebook friends parental bliss.
We snap euphoric photos — nine or ten,
before the little angel’s off again.
Mary McLean grew up in the Washington, D.C. area and now works as a scientist in Cambridge. Her poetry has appeared in Lighten Up Online and Mezzo Cammin, and she was a finalist in the 2012 Wergle Flomp competition for humorous verse. She blogs about poetry at profanepoet.wordpress.com