Tonight's Poet Corner: A Million Babies
A Million Babies
by Belinda Roddie
My lord, where did all these freaking babies
come from? I was never born, or forged,
to be a father in any shape or mold.
And here they are, all bawling, their tears
dripping hot like molten gold. Just let me
drink myself stupid before changing their diapers,
or bottle feeding them, or singing them to sleep
every night. The screeching is like owls, beckoning
Macbeth to dash his brains upon castle spires.
Sleep no more, o' patron of a million babies,
for your dreams are insufficient for young sustenance
and hiccups. Poor man, sleep no more.
by Belinda Roddie
My lord, where did all these freaking babies
come from? I was never born, or forged,
to be a father in any shape or mold.
And here they are, all bawling, their tears
dripping hot like molten gold. Just let me
drink myself stupid before changing their diapers,
or bottle feeding them, or singing them to sleep
every night. The screeching is like owls, beckoning
Macbeth to dash his brains upon castle spires.
Sleep no more, o' patron of a million babies,
for your dreams are insufficient for young sustenance
and hiccups. Poor man, sleep no more.
Comments
Post a Comment