Poem 543



Even though I was born – and escaped to tell the tale – the whole process of birth has always terrified me …



Fourth Day In Labour

crucified
between pink and blue
a diet of flesh
draining to white
to clammy
exhaustion

the pens are poised
cards bought
one of each
intended to cover
the possibilities

but wait
put them back behind the clock
for now



Fourth Day In Labour