Mother dear

must I die in this my only year?”

“Yes little one because today you are only a fetus,

not a tot

for just four-hundred and seventy eight bucks,

we can let you drop,

so your dad and I will be content,

nightly we can go out,

and boost some beers.

Doctor Bee Happy,

just makes a killing,

                                because,

out comes the babies,

pop, pop, pop,

then,

into the garbage can,

they drop, drop, drop.

I feel like going out and saluting the red, white and blue,

this is such a spiritual,

and democratic experience,

makes me want to write the Constitution,

on the post office with,

orange spray paint.”

“Oh mother,

mother dear,

must I die,

in this my only year?”

“I am female, disguised as gentle,

with sharpened fingernails.

I could be a Marine,

or President of the United States,

gals with their fists held high,

teamster girls beating up Miss America,

God wears a leather skirt, a dagger tatto,

nose and lip ring.

screaming,

                         Semper fi”