Going Stupid

You think of yourself as
intelligent, somewhat wise
to the world

then one day
the baby makes porpoise sounds
and you end up answering in kind

You think of yourself as
cultured, a little particular

then begin to discuss seriously
the implications of shit
(the diaper turned this way and that
and read like a tea-cup)

A belch is not Beethoven

Vomit is not the same on your shirt
as a medal

Once you were postmodern

now without a trace of irony
you utter the chestnuts

the one about doting on the first child

the one about being taken out of yourself

the one about love not divided
but multiplied