Stevie Edwards - How We Failed Sixth Period Child Development

Three men waved the Sunfire over
to the last neon-lit shoulder
before city road sped away into highway
and suburbs. I wish I was that baby
daddy, one man sang out
and swaggered toward us clutching
his crotch in his right hand,
as if we had enough sense to aim
for that loud target. The lowering
autumn dusk cloaked the stiff body
of a robotic doll in the backseat—
a wailing, sleepless assignment meant
to teach us not to have babies yet.
The only white girls to get a dark baby,
we joked the teacher must've known
about our futures in beauty shops
trying to learn to temper our children's
coiled hair. The men took our orders:
orange pop and vanilla vodka,
a pubescent screwdriver. We left
the baby to freeze in the car.
Bad mothers of our own bodies,
we said we weren't scared. We were
used to each other naked by then,
a full six months chasing not scared
around the umber of grown men's beds.
The motel room was nothing memorable—
two big beds, bolted TV, lingering
rank of cigarettes, no visible bugs.
The third man, the one with no girl,
darted from bed to bed, inspecting
what he could see of our pinned flesh,
tried to grasp handfuls of our smooth
shaved spindle legs, until our chosen
gallants batted his probing hands off
us liquor limp specimens of beauty.

Stevie Edwards

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/how-we-failed-sixth-period-child-development/