Abortion

[whitman]

I can feel tiny feet breaking ice in my ghetto stomach,
crying alarm clocks introduce a newsreader in stocks
announcing abortions are fake,
they live on in a clowns twitsed song,
a carnival dancers epileptic trance,
his shadow offers a game of chance,
my conscience for a dead baby's silence,
i can feel his little feet kicking
all the time kicking

[spally]

That was interesting. Very interesting.