Jennifer Poteet
My Mother Wanted a Daughter So Much
She took off her silver earrings first,
and pierced the silicone cup of her diaphragm
with an earring post,
and stood, naked in the bedroom.
She skipped the spermicide, too,
while she waited for my father.
He didn’t want more children.
There were two already
from his first marriage.
What if my father had stopped to look
at that little lanced disk,
dormant most of the time
in a pink silk pouch
on the bottom shelf of the linen closet?
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