She Can'T Bear It

WOMAN YOU ARE INFERTILE what a mess she can guess how poor old sarah felt before the angel relented and implanted isaac DONT WORRY DEAR he said WHAT'S FORTY YEARS OF PAIN? YOU'RE ALL GOD'S CHILDREN if she must be big fat she'd rather be the sow with eighteen teats kneedeep in rope-throated for the butcher's knife but still smiling from ear to ear as her teats are eighteen ways caressed she a mere self and the sow a goddess yes unfathomable karma of the squealing universe BALLS said the angel LUDICROUS CONCEIT do you want your legs spread and the guts pulled from you as a living head? worry guilt potty training teenage dropout drugs no gratitude woman of the new millenium VEIL YOURSELF in friendship sex career be a man if you will get therapy adopt the homeless THERE ARE FAR he cried TOO MANY CHILDREN IN THE WORLD what is she then since her body has failed to repay? only (as Lawrence gently said of Connie Chatterly) a thing of terrors humiliation worse far worse than immorality there are sisters who exercise choice but she is not one her womb has her in thrall to its useless bloat and vomit as the moon darkens her room ovaries lie in her brain like unpicked fruit even in sleep imploding SHE WANTS TO KILL THE CHILD WITHIN HER how do you mothers feel about that?