Fallout From the War On Women

I was warm and toasty, 
curled up, napping 
in amniotic fluid, 
without a worry 
when suddenly 
this metal thing
came into my room 

poked around 
and pulled me out.
The doctor stabbed me, 
smashed my head,
cut off my arms and legs,  
threw my pieces 
in a bucket 
with the others.
It's been a busy day
at the clinic.

At the closing hour,
a nurse dumped 
the bucket
in a freezer sack,
took it out in the alley
and threw it in a bin.
In the morning 
a private truck 

took the sack to 
the garbage dump.
The driver tossed it 
on the highest pile, 
launching flies,
at least a thousand. 

Sitting up here now
I can tell you 
I don't need arms or legs. 
I can hear 
the angels singing.


Donal Mahoney
Copyright © | Year Posted 2017

Poem

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