Neil Coppen

writings/ plays/ poetry/musings/travel journals and newspaper columns

I am a pregnancy test gone bad

September22

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

thrashing hair

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)

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