Newborn

I Was Born!
At least I thought I was,
Now I see they threw me into this world.
Helpless as God is,
Mind drawing in like a cold winter’s night
This is no Virgin Birth!
Nothing of miracles, as all men wish for,
Wise men and Soothsayers examine the afterbirth.
A massive abortion of confusion and riot,
Declared just fine by the experts at hand
All packed back in and sewn into this bloated haggis of a mind!
All mine.
Too much information, with words and thoughts vomited up
Repeated and reheated,
I am adult and child, baby and corpse.
Enormous that thought.
That maybe we were not meant to be!
Just seen in a zoo,
Examined under an infinite microscope!
Dissected and emptied in mindless schools,
Where aimless Philosophers will carve up the carrion and discuss the mind
Alternatively, the mindlessness of self.
Imagine me cannibalized and made into nothing, emptied of thought and drained of all blood.
Sincerely I could be dead!
Maybe should be, death becomes me,
A fine vintage this.
Sparing death,
Methinks I shall just join that body political!
One thing I know about is waxing quite lyrical.
After all, they have been dead longer than you or me!

by Susan Casey

Comments (1)

'I am adult and child, baby and corpse. ' This line in particular jumped out at me. I like how you role it all up as one. dan