Paul Shanghai

I do not remember my birth

I’ve only the gist of it

The inconvenience

Of my first audible scream

I have never seen scars

Such as those you bare mother

The deep red and purple gashes

Spread over your abdomen

As if I’d clawed my way

Through your flesh

Fully grown and monstrous

How does one survive such wounds?

I have murdered you surely

The banshee before me now

Like the sclera of an epileptic eye

(We’re quite the pair mother)


I mentioned this on Curious Flowers but I started a project to write 1 poem for every year of my life. I can’t say that I will complete the project. I realize what a grim undertaking it might be.