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Apr 2016
It's a bomb on your doorstep.
Wrapped up in a pastel pink and white blanket.
Swaddled in a babys basket
You don't even hear the ticking over all the babble
You just assumed it was designed to protect.
You never asked anyone
Or questioned where the basket came from.
Where it got this baby.
Why it is concealing it's wicker with this blanket.
You bring it inside.

tickTick tickTick
tickTick tickTick
tickTick tickTick

Wake up tossing and turning
hear a ticking downstairs
In your kitchen.
On the island.
"You're hearing things"
close your eyes.
It's too loud.
Walk down to see just a basket
A blanket
The baby is tucked in tight
You were hearing things
"Go back to bed sweety."
But the basket keeps ticking.
"Baskets are supposed to tick"
you never question it again.

tickTick tickTick
tickTick tickTick
tickTick tickTick

You never see it explode.
Just find and count the pieces
Wicker shrapnel where there should have been guidance.
Viscera where there should have been eyes.
Nicholas Mercier Coulombe
Written by
Nicholas Mercier Coulombe  25/M/Maine
(25/M/Maine)   
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