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Girlchild and the lure of the marsupial sac

Teach the girl child of
immaculate conceptions.

Restricting pains to
birthing.

Avoiding the hoopla,
emotional strain, the push
and pulls of the matrons'
yore.

Teach her to be a catcher
of the windborne.

Her clock insists on putting
little ones on my knee.
Prepared for travails
this child's young
firmament.

My mind shrieks.

Lift her heart to her head,
subvert the purposeless
bulls' glares.

Slip her an alternate
reality; simplified bollocks
in sacs a convenient
low hanging fruit.
Easy picking for the
marsupial sac, her lap.