"Is“funky, is
“leaky, is
“a soggy, bloody crotch, is
“sharp jets of breast milk shot straight across the room,
“is gaudy, mustard-colored poop, is
“postpartum tears that soak the baby’s lovely head."
Another passage:
“Shockingly vital, mammoth giblet,
“the second living thing to break free
“of my body in fifteen minutes.
“The midwife presents it on a platter.
“We do not eat, have no Tupperware
“to take it home and sanctify a tree."
-- "Maine-Woman", giving us a sample of Elizabeth Alexander's "poetry", because Maine-Woman is confused by Alexander as Barack Obama's choice to read on election day - which also reveals that Maine-Woman has obviously never read any of Barack Obama's poetry - because, if she had, she'd really be screaming Conservative Women Unite!.
Other than my admitted emotional urge to superglue a magnet to her forehead and stick her to her own refrigerator, I am completely and utterly impressed that someone could work the word Tupperware into (alleged) poetry. Damn
ReplyDeleteROTFLMAO!!!!
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