Arsenic Lobster poetry journal Issue Forty
Spring 2016
Mr. Mom at the Playground
Tim Staley

She asked me, what’s your daughter’s name?
Questions like these
so laced with innuendo
happen to me all the time.

A beagle dry heaves
for 10 minutes
where the sidewalk
meets the wood chips.
Wouldn’t it be nice
to think of something else.

Like how
sex is like milk
in cereal commercials
which is actually glue.

I watch a girl run
faster and faster
around the playground
the less she puts her feet down.

About Tim Staley

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