The evening fog
with the engine down of a slowing car,
A cat that doesn't care
No dog barks
Even the wind is still.
he has the stride of tired confidence,
Inside this mock-welcoming place,
He walks austere white corridors
He can't relax;
so routine decides
Its great to have a coo and gurgle now
and then; although thank God that I can give
'em back to mum if they should scream and howl,
or stink and do what babies do. To live
a life of dreadful luck from careless thrill,
nine months of getting fat, and growing fright
of things gone wrong, then hospital who fill
you up with drugs and that's if things go right.
I wouldn't have the chance of looking good
for months, then there's the bites and nipple strife,
a smelly child, a screaming stink, that could
not do the simplest thing, and grief for life.
A soul that's caged, there's no way that's for me,
I don't want such responsibility.
Awoken by the morning light,
Having no urgency,
His catching eyes attract as fire in hearth,
alighting on myself a burning lust;
the pub, the people, places, all of Earth,
vanish. I smile. He smiles. My eyes, in trust,
down-turning, blur. I know his psyche hums,
his eyes are bright with life itself. This dare
I'll take, and him as well: he walks, he comes
to me. And I, I wait for him; to where
we meet and find that private space. His hand,
I shall entice to want, a need to touch,
adore my female style. We talk a grand
unworded stream of wish. In need, as much
in me, I find I dance and flaunt my curves,
and taunt myself as all his life deserves.
architectural finesse subjugated
Yet the town's nature survives
Less crass, a low line bungalow,
The doctor said my body's going wild,
the safest thing to do is to abort:
if I did that, I'd never have a child
again. He told me this is what I ought
to do, and so I told him where to go.
I want to take this chance of giving birth;
he said he thought that's what I'd say. I know
it is a risk: some mothers bleed to death
because of what I've got. He said he'll keep
an eye on me. It's strange: I feel I'm like
the rope they strain in tugs of war---I need
to have my child, I want to live a life---
yet I'm relaxed. I've made my choice. I'll ride
these rolling die. God knows I have to try.
Newspaper scanned, forgotten,
And of complete control
to be gathered
A moment crawls.
and his car
The father moves,
And shock continues
A policeman comes,
with strength to quell a dozen tanks, with build
With eyes, all bow,
The youth: silent.
Only the birds hear
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