Twins Poem by Clyde King

After seven years of married life
I came to the conclusion that
not having children was a
bad conclusion, a bad end,
a detour into lonely old age.

I could see my wife, Jeanne,
and me, scuttling about
the house like a pair of old crabs,
looking for something dead
to eat and waiting to die.

No sir, not for me.
I asked her about adopting.
At first she objected and
said that "you wouldn't be
a good father." Well, I'd
never been a father and I
never had a father raise me.
Maybe she was right.

But I persisted and ignored
her cutting remark and I
chalked it up to her own
upbringing, far from ideal.
Alcoholic dad, no love or
affection ever shown between
her parents, so she assumed
(ugly word)that I'd be like
her old man, a drunken bum.

Big mistake. I was not like
her dad, who was irresponsible,
unaccountable and unacceptable.

About a week passed
and we passed each other
like "ships in the night." Then,
by golly, she said, "If we're
going to adopt I want twins."
What? Twins?

Yes, sir, she said twins,
not just any kind, but
"I want identical twins."
Whoa! You go from
zero to two in one second?

I said, "OK with me! "
Then the ball began to roll
all the way to Costa Rica.
But first we looked in
local homes for unwed mamas.

Then we saw a beautiful
TV program about inter-
national adoptions and the
lack of red tape and all that BS
and we got our asses over
to an agency in Bel Aire, Fl,
and met the lady that opened
the door. She said, "We are getting infants
from China, Russia, Brazil and
Central America. But the quickest
way is from Costa Rica now."

Holy cow! So that's where
this poem ends and a new one
BEGINS!

Nov.2020