Let it sit
still, yet born
here,
where the mother's breach(es) reach on
wine colored broach, roach, seeds
of foggy afternoons,
of shaved hands,
of trust
of the trailor
and the soft spot between the mountains
she misses for it's simplicity
and the tri-plex she loathes for it's electric bills
the ringing of cowhide
the monotone pleas shield
the ghastly taught placenta
attaching itself to each nail
hardwood, faint
butter, grass, red and white plaid
butter, grass, red and white plaid
her uterus, the placenta, the two moments
butter,
father's mastache, the placenta, the stove uterus
grass,
13 inches, 7lbs, still, yet, born
red and white
to be continued...