the sieve and the sand

Leaving the wheat with the chaff. This is not your mother's poetry blog.

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humans

from alien to human

poetry

down inside,
in the deepest, safest place,
grows an alien, devoid
of thought,
of knowledge,
waiting to burst forth,
after a proper gestational period,
in a shower of
blood,
placenta,
flesh,
splattering any and all
in the line of fire
with the accompaniment
of life,
of birth,
of becoming
human,
of being
human.

June 16, 2009June 16, 2009 Jared Abraham Tagged aliens, birth, humans Leave a comment
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