offspring

they don’t come with
instructions, and yet
we pop them out as if
life depended on it
(…well, it sort of does)
smelly, demanding,
helpless, tugging at our
raw breasts, depriving
us of sleep, sometimes
for years, testing our
patience, breaking our
hearts…if you’ve loved
one, you know what
I mean…and we do
our best to keep them
safe, to keep from offing
them ourselves when
they challenge us, no,
they don’t come with
instructions, and yet
somehow we manage
to survive the decades
until it is time for them
to leave the nest, literally,
(have you seen a teenager’s
room?) taking a piece of
our heart with them

~kat

NaPoWriMo Day 1: write poems that provide the reader with instructions on how to do something. It can be a sort of recipe, like O’Neil’s poem. Or you could try to play on the notorious unreliability of instructional manuals (if you’ve ever tried to put IKEA furniture together, you know what I mean). You could even write a dis-instruction poem, that tells the reader how not to do something.