Desolation
Let’s rob the sperm bank
and save all those
from ever having to be
born of a cheap
woman and an unknown man
who got his kick,
alone, in a deposit closet.
Save them from ever
realizing they came about because
of a Playboy mag and a
willing, hot hand. Save
them from knowing their
mom bought them from
the bank because she couldn’t,
wouldn’t, shouldn’t trust anyone
she knew to give her what she
wanted without the threat
of commitment to life.
Written for a creative writing class in 1990.
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