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.