(Inspired by the line “the things you accidentally do” which I heard one day sitting in class)

When we finished I signed the contract with a cigarette,

Not noticing the fine print, I thought how nice our names looked together.

The things you accidentally sign, just sitting there.

You’re in for a treat, the doctor said, you’re pregnant,

One of the fringe benefits of my deal showing its head.

The things you accidentally learned, just sitting there.

His reason for leaving seemed contrived, some hidden bylaw I overlooked,

He forgot to clear it through management, but I didn’t bring it up.

The things you accidentally let slip by, just sitting there.

Aunt Lacey called and asked for a status report,

I hesitated with the subject header: “self-pity.”

The things you accidentally indulge, just sitting there.

Mom wanted to fly in from the East and consult,

But I told her business hours were over.

The things you accidentally ignore, getting tired of sitting there.

The project deadline arrived and found me—you guessed it—just sitting there.

Mom flew in to oversee the transition period.

Mom, Aunt Lacey thedoctorandI held a conference

Crammed together in my cubicle as I struggled to produce.

The engineers said the machines were properly configured, and

The guys down at PR began prepping a press release, and

My computer printed but there was a paper jam, so

IT suggested I push harder.

Finally the prototype of my labor, a little heir

With a simple title and a blank page (intentionally),

Helpless no longer, I held him to me, and together we sat there.