August 24, 2008 at 7:24 pm (I Can Make Life, Poems)

I’ve been counting days again and

have made my appointment.

Ten days from now the doctor will ask

if I’ve taken a pain killer

as he shoots dye into my uterus. 

The technician sits at her station

watching the dark blue fluid fill me up

on her monitor. The moment it is released

is an explosion of ink from a squid’s body

a cloud of indigo uncurling itself

reaching its stained fingers out to the borders

of a fetal waterworld

shaped like an upside-down pear.


     A cephalopod releases ink to obscure

     a predator’s vision in order to make its


     On this table, below this x-ray machine,

     it is used to uncover what can’t be seen.


I have to experience this violence as beautiful.


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