Notes From A Reluctant Love Nest

Notes From A Reluctant Love Nest

I saw it today on the screen
floating in a protective mush
the size of a poker chip
I can't say I didn't feel anything -
I did
Maybe amazement
or even some amount of pride
that I can't cop to
without giving in.

She was beaming, of course,
with that probe inside her
listening to the heart that
couldn't have been more than
a few millimeters,
the size of a pencil point maybe,
obliterated by the curser on the screen
but there it was, drumming
with the reverb they added
to give it that studio sound
that you can get nowadays
on any home system.

The nurse moved the mouse
over the pad and clicked
on the head and the little leg flaps
and conjured a due date,
like a psychic.

July 4th she said,
Independence Day -

Could she have known about
the prison surrounding my heart?

Could she have followed my nocturnes
to that place of death where faces of
old friends and lovers flash?

Was this two and a half centimeters
supposed to answer my reluctance?

When she pushed down on my lover's womb
and distorted the picture
like a water balloon
was I supposed to feel
threatened?

Should I have jumped up
and pulled her hand away
or did I wish that something
would break and quietly deflate
giving back my choice in
the matter?