deepundergroundpoetry.com

Journey

She has been sitting on that egg
all morning and
won’t leave soon.

The river beneath her glides
gently, crystal music for a
thinly cased unconscious mind; a
rock lullaby.

She straddles the egg and fights
for its life. Pond snails and bullet
ants collide and form blood thirsty
armies only to be met by her
alcohol spit. Soon they will be
found by curious Biology majors
who hate cigarettes.

She sends two prayers:
One for the river who carries her
on and the one for her child who (she
knows) will never be born.
Written by manic_inspiration (Brian Minnick)
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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