Hi Mummy, I know you don't know me yet
but I will lay here hidden until you do,
I have so much growing to do
but I’m already counting down the days
until I get to see your face

Hi Mummy, I’m bigger now
and with each beat of your heart I echo,
you found out about me today,
I could feel the happiness
running through your body

Hi Mummy, you told daddy today,
he shouted at you and hit you,
you were crying as you sang to me
don’t worry when I’m born I will protect you,
like you're protecting me

Hi Mummy, look at me
I have fingers and toes just like you,
You had an ultrasound today
and I waved at you with my tiny hands,
I felt your laugh brightening my world

Hi Mummy, I heard you and daddy shouting,
you haven't spoken to me since
or laid a soft hand upon my tiny head,
I feel completely alone
Is everything okay?

Hi Mummy, I’m scared
You touched my head last night
it was the first time in weeks,
but it was different as you were crying
as you said “I’m sorry baby, I love you”

Hi Mummy, what’s happening today?
Everything is so quiet and rushed,
You haven't stopped crying,
I heard you mutter the words
“hospital” and “baby”

Help Mummy, I want it to stop!
I can’t move away from the pain,
With each ever slowing beat of my heart
I am jolted further away from you,
Through tears you cried “I’m sorry”

Hi Mummy, I’m safe now
I couldn't wait to see your face
but you never wanted to see mine,
I hope you are happy now,
I miss you mummy and I still love you

like the

Rialto, the Grand Canal flows underneath me.
Even as I hold my back

in my hands, I can no longer support my discretions.
Sixteen.
Twenty-one.
Thirty-three.
How

did I have the space?
You would think it would be engraved across my pelvis:
“wrap it up”
before you
hold me down

I ran with lit matches as a girl,
waiting until the flame kissed my thumb and forefingers
puckered pink under the surface.
I enjoy the boils left

behind by my recklessness:
every bruise from a fence **** and
every pebble-sized bump from my head
hitting the roof of a Camaro
sat underneath my skin,
just like Lil’ A
       B
       C
and I can lie flat
as the canal rushes over.

Hello in there little valley,
Would you have been a girl or a son?
**** you out wired before you become
a little mighty beloved someone.
Perhaps we have too much power,
She agonized for hours paying forward her own pain,
Our conviction was defeated
***** smoky dripping fire.
The ride home she sat paralyzed,
Puffing *** popping energy shots.
I promised I one day would take her to the city,
We're married and here we don't even notice,
No red river valley no, no freethought forethought can be seen,
The air smells of bloodsuckers and conceptual difficulty.

We go back to southern country,
Cuddle upset goodnight,
I fondled her lace pajamas,
Got the both of us feeling right.

A hymn to paired planethood: Venus hits Pluto
as death, in cold orbit, collides with biology
smashing to fragments: demonic astrology
(more a black hole than a love-star, it’s true though).
Cynical cure for Eve’s womanly grievance
Concupiscent consequence: lust’s bitter fruit –
ah the thought… changing Sin into mere inconvenience.

Margaret sang her seductive refrain
about weeding the garden and progress and light.
Her sisters should view her with scornful disdain
but instead have adopted her murderous rite.
With sang-froid she promoted her racist eugenics
(as if she had never herself been a fetus),
condemning her heirs to postmodern polemics
while nurturing ardent desires to defeat us.

Suppressing the lives that she flushed down the drain
she would liberate Death – and resistance was vain.
As a midwife to modern life (though on the “anti” side)
Old Matron Margie racked up quite a legacy
singing the praises of sanctioned infanticide
calling the shots for the coming sick century.
Planning, quite calmly, to “cleanse” certain races
her zeal was empowered by murderous graces.
She labored to bring us such pearls of subduction:
“dilation and curettage”, “women’s autonomy”
“viable fetus”, “procedure”, a “suction”
Hippocrates retches to hear the taxonomy;
words that turn Life into mere reproduction.

She enters the realms of the ****** and the motherless
roundly condemned by her feminine otherness.
Man’s first protection: the God-given womb
which no infant should have to regard as their tomb.

Dismembered dark cherubs, assembling, greet her
as demons (in scrubs) holding baby-parts meet her.
Long may she burn with the medical cynics
this mother of Moloch, this founder of clinics.
Convenience is king when abortion’s the Queen
and the profits swell big with each nubile teen…
yet the fruit of such carnage remains to be seen.

I send her this song as a funeral wreath
and a card inked in blood. You may read what is there:
“To the Matrix Supreme of our culture of death
from the souls of the infants you slew on the earth.
May your torment increase with the children you bear.”

What’s the color of the sky in your memory?
I know you loved your twinkling mansion
But with misty eyes I realized that-
You’re awaiting just beneath my heart.

I hummed melodies lacking pace
And studied verses to sidetrack you
But do you remember the days
I talked to you endlessly?

You kicked me with at most joy
And somersaulted all around me
But you never knew that I dreamt-
A thousand dreams of loving you!

I’m sorry for all your dreams
I’m sorry for all your smiles
You deserved to be born
But I butchered you!

body parts strewn everywhere.
        what is It?
        what is value?
         billions of people everywhere.
Life.
         who values It anymore?
         who would waste It?
         who would treat It with contempt?
Life.

I am pregnant with a love
That will never see the day.


-- Eleanor

Three months old in my mother’s womb
Whispers I heard outside,
A man persuading mum
To destroy me
Because he doubted I was his.
I heard mum cried,
And felt her tears
Falling to her bulging belly,
My bed room,
A thunderous sound
That struck my universe
Almost tearing it apart.


The man talking to another man,
A professional killer of my kind,
I heard about the price of my life,
To destroy me
Worth only ‘$300’.
Mum’s heart beat faster,
Bringing blood like a mighty rushing wave
To my weak, gentle nerves and veins
Almost rapturing them apart.

Mum whispered
I heard while she cried,
“You are a gift and blessing to me,
My child, my beloved one.”
I will keep you,” She promised.
I tried to comfort mum but couldn't.
I conjured up ominous images
Of my shattered body,
My flesh, blood and bone;
It was too painful to bear.
So I stamped my feet
On my bed,
Her stomach bulged,
And I felt mum embraced me,
With her gentle hands.

From the smallest corner of her heart
Next to her bulging belly,
My bed room,
I heard mama interceded with God
For the forgiveness of the sins
And comfort of thousand women
Who aborted their pregnancies
Due to ****, pregnant while breast feeding,
Incestuous affairs, teenage pregnancies
Or on medical conditions
For the physical and emotional pains
They endured and guilt that may have lingered still.

In her bulging stomach,
My bed room, my home,
I waited for my eviction,
Every day.
Then one day, after a long wait,
It rained cats and dogs
With muds of blood
In my bedroom.
I tried to cling to the roof of my bed room,
But was swept away by the natural disaster
Through the channel of life
Into my mother's gentle arms.