A Coolie Woman's Delivery
Digging, digging, digging...
She defeats the dry sand.
Red dust enhances her resistance.
Thanks to the underground cables
and her sweat,
lest our telephones won’t ring.
He’d filled her womb with transient love
and vanished behind the crowd,
but she won’t let herself drown
in loneliness
She’s conscious
never anxious
of swelling love inside
This is a unique pain
like one from the depth of nature.
She withdraws into the seclusion
of the bathroom.
Hearing her shriek,
the local class passengers rush
to the door.
Her baby falls down
through the open toilet pipe
as a train gives birth.
Somebody pulls the chain.
Locomotive lullaby ceases.
Newborn baby lies safe on
the track between the right
and left rows of wheels.
She didn’t make it unnatural
with tonics, tablets and tests.
She didn’t waste thousands
during the last ten months.
First published in my book, "Kanoli Kaleidoscope" (PunksWritePoemsPress, USA)
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