Oh, globs of goo,
Why do you vex me so?
No more than chunks of nutrient-rich uterine lining
You bring me to my knees in your mad dash through a crowded exit
My bath-time, once a luxury, now necessity
A claw-footed birthing pool
Black-red alien babies spill forth from a basket that shall bear no fruit
Fuck you, seventh grade health teacher, you lying bitch
You said this wouldn't hurt, I wouldn't even FEEL it
When it spilled all over my underwear in Walmart tonight and nearly froze to my taco shell as I shuffled awkwardly to the car in below-freezing temperatures?
You bet I felt that.