photo of chrysalises

De Generatione Dei by Joshua Jones

(Please rotate your handheld device to landscape mode to provide maximum width for each line.)

When we fessed up about not wanting any,
Mom said “Sometimes babies just happen.”

And, like a crack
in a chrysalis, a hangover blistered
my thigh while a tension headache bloomed.
Above me, my wife—atop a donkey
and peppered in swan’s down
—rears back a mallet as big as sin,

and I realize Mom’s right,
sometimes they just happen,
and you never really know when
you’ll be fixed
to the pediment of some unexpected pantheon,

hurling bolts and barking riddles
from clouds. After all, it has
happened before.

Joshua Jones received his MFA from UMass Boston and is pursuing a Ph.D. at the University of North Texas. His poems have appeared in The Sow’s Ear Poetry Review, Pine Mountain Sand & Gravel, and Poemeleon among others. He has written book reviews for The American Literary Review, The Boiler, and The Breakwater Review. Find him on Twitter: @Joshua_C_Jones

Lead image“Chrysalises” (via Flickr user Drew McLellan)