Delivery

1. Waking First the low drone of uilleann pipes, the river of the spine just barely quivering: the froth on a half-drunk pint of Guiness shifting as the bellow breathes. 2. Waiting A pressure sprouting in the back—the joke I told about having eaten a pumpkin seed to astonish the moon- faced toddler gawping at my beach ball belly in the grocery line. 3. Pitocin What the     hell is this no one said     chaos I can't find the     cerulean beach, the sun-     rayed trail through     rain-cooled woods can't    find your face the     soft flamenco music     hurts I hate     it you turn     off it     now 4. Lidocaine Flying bullets, bats, then, finally, birds. Swallows sky-diving for mosquitos above the quiet reservoir at dusk. Iridescent synchronicity, twisting together as if on strings. You must listen hard to hear the soft applause of (closed in unison) a thousand wings. 5. Parturition Hosannas in the skull halls: I see as if from above a body brought to its knees, every one of its live cells singing Hosanna for "we praise you" and "please save us" as being trains its way into the lighted room, the ravaged world.