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My Birth
Now I know
that when I was born I was a strange
delivery. The doctor Wasn’t in the room
with me. Mother Was away on
hush-hush, but she left Her voice in
an amp embedded In the lime wall. The staff was behind Mirrored glass
but I didn’t know I could be
seen, so I swallowed A camel while
straining for a gnat. Mother said:
“Time and tide wait For no man,
even if he’s sea pea.” The doctor
used robotic arms To tousle my
umbilical cord while His robotic
teeth bit me free From my host,
who resembled a fine “You’re the
broom against my doorsill.” I cried when
suddenly I realized I wouldn’t be
free to cry ever again.
The-Beach-Where-the-Ocean-Killed-the-Sheep
A sun shower lit A beard of violets. The dog-eared playground
Was plump with drunken Bees and basking dads. Skateboarders heaved The ex-pool. One kid’s Wheelie ended in squid.
“The world of
birds Is gifted with
anarchy.” A downpour of hairy Air gripped the beeches,
Broadcasting mast across Sand and boardwalk.
A black copter. Then It shrunk up, leaving Cherry
blossoms, no,
Flyers: The Anchovy
Township beached whale Rescue team is
holding Try-outs Sunday, 9
A.M. Bring your own pail.
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