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.