by Angie Palsak


My fallopian tubes are drawstrings.
My uterus
nothing more
than a leather pouch
full of marbles.
The ultrasound shows them, the fibroids, growing fat in my womb.
Rotten little aggie.
Lazy cat's eye.
I call quitsies.
But my poor little uterus
has taken on a life of her own.
Like a wolf spider
hauling around
a sack of eggs,
she grows heavier and heavier.
I feel her spindly
spider legs sinking
into my bladder.
She's just about ready to burst.
She needs to understand
that I will not raise her children.
Stupid fat spider,
my body will not be your welfare.
I will not provide for you.
But you're playing keepsies
and there's nothing I can do to stop you.
As you suck and suck and suck
my once fertile lining dry.


Please send us your comments, including the name of the work you are commenting on.

Don't want to miss out? Contact us and we'll send you an e-mail message announcing each new issue. (Be sure to see our Privacy Policy.)

Copyright © 1999-2006 by Amarillo Bay. All rights reserved.
Individual works are copyrighted by their authors.