Barren as
asbestos-laden walls
The tear-drop seed of life
will never grace
my womb

I am a shrunken belly
emaciated gut
Tight around
the pit of yawning hunger
A yearning to create
A tugging desperate haunt
of my children
never born

I am
the bled-dry land
of a famine-swaddled west
Undeveloped and unknown
frost-preserved
I die