Could you spare a quarter of your sterile life?
A grain of salt from your pillared wife?
Could I work for one smile of your arctic face?
Or a whiff of warmth from some mythic grace?
Anything'd help: a hat of yam,
a loaf of luck, a shoe of jam,
your skull encased in a wooden cask.
Please help. God bless. I'm shrinking fast.
A grain of salt from your pillared wife?
Could I work for one smile of your arctic face?
Or a whiff of warmth from some mythic grace?
Anything'd help: a hat of yam,
a loaf of luck, a shoe of jam,
your skull encased in a wooden cask.
Please help. God bless. I'm shrinking fast.
Clog off, odd wad. Go melt in hell.
I'm busy in my diving bell.
I hear the voices
ReplyDeleteThanks for the emotional poem. It will surely encourage many men to transform the lives of infertile couples through sperm donation.
ReplyDeleteThanks for the
Deletee m o t i o n a l
poem
it will surely encourage
many men
to transform the lives
of infertile couples
through sperm
donation
the above is spam, of course, but I think it makes an interesting poem or dialogue itself about how communication happens in the Internet age.
ReplyDeleteThat comment by Maria Townsel isn't spam. It actually calls attention to my original title ("Overheard Outside a Sperm Bank"). The reader apparently interpreted the poem as a negative commentary on sperm banks, which astonished me. I intended it as a reflection on homelessness and solicitation and the grim tension that often sets up between people. If the title throws readers off, then perhaps it should change. I chose "sperm bank" arbitrarily; it could just as easily have been Burger King.
Delete