girl put your birthing hips on
compost the vast waste of the world into a documentary show about life itself.
this isn’t a pastiche mongrel of your own insecurity.
it’s the inhibited outer ego you call home.
put your birthing hips on and help carry the weight of idiocracy
feed me your qualms and I’ll spew out something biologically solvent…like a child.
tell me your tombstone design
for I can’t be asked to stay here and listen to your purging.
but I will listen to your death doula plans
help me integrate my tired mind into a new plan for soluble information.
put your birthing hips on
and the rest will sallow.
like the vertebrae of your enemies.