ODE ON AN AMERICAN UNBORN

Up the 3^rd floor of 3^rd Street at 4.30 a.m

At the window listening to the neighbourhood

That is not too fried by the gentry

Listen to the outside simmer as it settles for the night

The frustrated howls

The siren’s prowl and blare

The drunken sloppy fights

This co-op pregnant with people

Lying inside

I touch the magic belly again as your mother sleeps

And think I find your head

You flinch

I imagine you rub your eyes like a cute baby human would

You don’t cry

There are no tears where you are

Just you wait…

Anticipation will become expectation

Heavy on your greenstick shoulders

The world will bombard you with choices

Pony Riding Princess Ballerina Astronaut

Nymphomaniac Lesbian Nun

Alcoholic Serial Widow Reformed Evangelical TV Chef Pop Idol

Or all of the above

But don’t worry baby

We won’t care what you do

As long as you can be free

And make it soon

As your Ma's heart continues to burn