three days after conception &
i am noticing happy parents

they are vague insects emerging, crawling from
the interior wooden facades of our house.

from this woodwork they beckon with prams, cots &
car-seats – all at a remarkable price (what are dollars

between intimates?) but i can’t shake the sense
that the accoutrements of parenthood depreciate

very quickly & that somehow this matters
(they lick at their mandibles & quietly

sever the heads of their young when i look away.)
i suppress an inner-scream, i never mentioned a baby,

this is too surreal even for CNN, but how
do you talk to such cold eyed creatures? they don’t

understand anything, only lay cold plans: take my money
then devour my child. full stop. there are nine months to go

& there is already a sonorous regularity to
the phrase ‘if you can’t beat them…

et cetera et cetera…’ it’s an
endless loop in my mind.

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