I am a random coincidence
A pregnancy test gone bad
I am the result of an accidental collision
The meeting of bodies
The greeting of bodies
the excretion of bodies
I am fluids spilt in the name of procreation
Emancipated in the name of recreation.
I am the culmination of banging bed posts
the agony and ecstasy
Sweat and calamity .
I’m lack of protection, imperfection
Conceived in drunkenness
born in awkwardness.
I’m the lucky dip
The crinkled chip
The dancing DNA strain.
I am generations of insecurity and joy .People that died alone, those that died happy.
The current’s of two collaborating streams
in flood and drought.
A luggage lugged
A baton grasped and passed in the sweaty palm of history
I am genetic procrastination, the anti evolution.
Question mark? The cul de ”˜ball’ sac (or T junction) to another’s realm.
In possession of this, this suitcase of ghosts, bursting at the buckles -history ailing. Memories wailing
To be recalled. Vicarious and precarious .
A thousand years of neuroses, loss ,gain.
A culmination- devastation, celebration
a pin prick of pain .
Both dog and semi enlightened being
otherwise a shit fly. (For which I’m thankful I’m not)