Poetry by Janann Dawkins

Not Now, Biology

Not now, biology.
I have no need for screams
right now.  I want no jolts
from dreams in early morning.
I want no diminutive innocents
trailing behind my thick, brown thighs.
No filth furrowed in deceptively
white plastic-coated kerchiefs.
Leave me be.
I want rest and irresponsibility.

TickTock.  I hear you already,
aging ovule odometer.  In the depths
of four a.m., I hear you.  You invade
my dreams.  I have hallucinations
of mobile wind-chimes, chimerical
tinkling of an offspring’s future
aural desire.  Coos coolly ricochet
across nocturnal membranes.

Let me alone.
I wish my mother matrix
to remain blameless.

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