There is no I in Birth

A mass of bone and teeth pushing HARD
against the “miracle of birth.”

Against forced breeding of human monsters
against their will!  A groaning sound…

and a small sinus resembling an anus
and hairy, cheesy material…unfolds in the wet darkness

Are you listening, your honors?
At least, don’t force people do it

Brett M. Craven Maw
could drink a beer, since he likes beer

Cover judges with vernix!
don’t let them out until their nipples leak

Energy collected from the wails and moans coils around
episiotomies, fever, tiredness, and low or sad moods

Even normal gestation is…! You know…
fetiform things – parasitic neoplasms…

Fetuses looking like aliens, like kiwis,
from their giant unblinking eyes

If we absolutely must perpetuate our species…wait ¬–
In 2009 a British man “gave birth”

In a seven-month-old infant! – a parasitic mass
in pluripotent cells teeming with information…

In the abdomen of a teenager, the ideology of
John Roberts/Clarence Thomas – TWO two-first namers –

Joseph Halitosis, Jr.
Let the robots do it!

Let the robots do it!
Let the robots do it!

Let them eat meconium!
like a heart in the mouth

like a sprouting bean or seahorse
like peanuts, like jellybeans,

like really old dried-up old people
like toy goats about four inches long

made of a variety of foreign tissues
Neil M. Gorsuchanasshole

No more ectopic pregnancies,
No more hair loss and weight gain: Let the robots do it!

No more hyperemesis gravidarium
No more preeclampsia or gestational diabetes –

Not to be trusted, the slimy poison tentacle arm of the bought judicial
not to mention Amy Coney Island Barrett Watten of the Mindless!

O blue-eyed judges? Think a moment
of mothers carrying fetuses with giant black eyes

on the sides of their giant heads
Or let’s reimagine the species in CGI, staring into darkness

or like a pinkas mekufal, a folded notebook coming
out of his abdomen!

Roll them into a mass of hairy cheesy material 
Rub placenta in their powdered wigs!

Stuff them back into the womby windbag of judges, 
Subpar Court of the disunited Hates? Observe

that tiny tail that never wags before it disappears into
the colostrum of compassionate intelligence!

Then ask them to let the robots do it.
There are many usual poems

that stare with their blank eyes into the wet darkness!
Think of all the weird things that can happen:

This will not be one of them, signalling
to its own undeveloped twin – it pushed its way, but

we can do that now! Can’t we? Or can we not?
What do you think of bodily integrity now?

Why can’t robots have the babies for us?
Why no techno-solution yet? O look, a fetus in a fetus!

with a tiny tail, a well-formed ankle and foot!
with copious hair, and delicate legs, and shrimpy genitals!

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