Poetry by Bernadette Martonik
Clear Blue Easy
That Clearblue commercial,
that divining rod ad,
that exhibition
of a fortune telling
pregnancy pee stick,
sticks in me,
sings a sting in me.
It vibrates on skin frequency.
Before, it was Clearblue Easy,
straightforward and serene.
Now, on the screen, anticipatory music,
a few notes repeating
over and over,
waiting
to show us,
as gentle rain taps
the next nine months,
a pleasant,
lulling,
nap,
certainly not a series of
progressively worse phone calls
and tests
until
the music ends.
But let’s say all goes well.
The music crescendos:
In the commercial
women scream,
and hug,
and cry tears of joy.
A man wearing a goofy grin asks,
“Seriously?”
before taking the clear
blue
(easy?)
stick in his hand,
The magic wand that will make his
life complete,
seriously,
and rolls over on the floor
still smiling,
into his wife’s arms.
I’ve watched it a hundred times.
The algorithm gods
tracked sperm and egg
until disaster ensued,
but the show kept running.
I’ve watched a hundred children,
a hundred answers
to a hundred prayers,
little miracle
babies,
sweet skin and coo song.
They grow into children,
and then adults
who wander the earth with the
rest of us long past the time
when their simple existence
caused tears of joy,
spontaneous embraces,
men
rolling over at the mystery of
it all.
Bernadette Martonik writes essays on her family's darkest secrets, stories about unicorns, and poetry on everything in between. She lives in Seattle with her husband and their dog, Bandit. You can find her on Twitter @BernadetteMarto and Instagram @sisterstonic.