THE END OF INCUBATION
mama carried me out of my tubes
when my lungs could breathe gusts
into this little light of mine, placed
me in school saying "one day, one
day, you will be" - i have been nothing
but thinking. and here we are after
alphabets twisting into thousand-page
novels swirling up, up, up and in.
intoxicating. i have been nothing
but thinking. face squeezed tight with intricate
dreams of take me away, and take me away
funneled into a thought of one place.
foot on the road to dreamland.
life as incubator.
i will soon be out of this
hot heavy cage. now festering.
but for mama to carry me would be quite
the task, i don't think i want her to break her
back. a better solution would be to scratch
my tiny fingernails into the wall and
heave-hoist myself into fresh air.
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