The Creative Womb
Artists give birth, male of female;
we have this ever-churning womb;
embedded in the restless blood,
a gravid ghost in the gut and groin
that seeks to be born.
It is a pre-life more alive then its parent.
That blind infant pushes through all flesh
it howls, it shoves, it kicks
until something appears in this world
as a tangible child - an appendage,
as one more monstrously revealing angel
of our illegitimate selves.
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