Arsenic Lobster poetry journal Issue Thirty-two
Summer 2013
 
At First the Baby
Kate Magnolia Glasgow

It’s not a story where I am unfamiliar, and that’s the part that does me in. I really couldn’t ever give you every definition of such a complex process of birth. Onto the kitchen floor plops a wailing mouth, out of turn. The way I lift the baby over my head, some say it is a miracle the cord’s so long. When I lay down at night, I dream about her extraction from my coconut milk womb. I think about how much you love that she is my most basic need. The tobacco falls out of your pocket when I tell you she is coming. She is here. She became an object. I wanted to ask myself a question. I hadn’t yet ascribed maintenance as fate. What are women saying yes to, when they say yes?

About Kate Magnolia Glasgow

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