# 18
in response
to Dominique Hecq’s poem
(#14 an army of wombs
in response to Magdalena Ball #19
Unpossessed responding to Elif Sezen #2 - Wombtales 1 responding to ..... responding to…)
Just a Tupperware
container
white
cover
light
yellowish edges
on
a bed of ice
as
if a hole in the winter sky
had
opened
she
was told stories
count
them all
the
clouds so you can sleep
count
them all the sheep
in
this tide of bright wool
she
was told lies
her
colonized brain
is
playing back the birth game
well
knowing from clear intuition
that
behind
all this scenery no waiting star
nothing
to guide her
but
a chestnut sized malignant tumor
having
given death to her island-like body
just
a Tupperware container
in
a widower’s hands
announcing
the cremains to be launched
into
the air
somewhere
call
it home if you want
call
it universal womb
if
you still trust any faith
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