Mother with Newborn

by Eric Freeze

Rubber Cement.
It's my only defense.
The only thing that will work
to wean my child.
And it is work.
Like my oldest daughter—
the first time she took
her collage to school unfinished.
There was a hole right in the middle,
she said, crying while her
schoolmates laughed.
Bits of trauma, I suppose,
exposure like the open seams
of a potato split on the ground
before it is planted.
Splitting into all its parts
and eyes.