More Lines 2K17: 14

Offspring Are Blank

Here we are, in a womb
full of strange words, drunk
in the card aisle of a CVS. Four
copies of what I mean
to feel tomorrow on the rack—
a matter of finding the one least
bent. When we were young
and cared we'd write, sand
raw to rough to fine grain,
as if you could coax out words
between grand mistakes like
history between ice ages. No
more. Caring is editing for free.
You still have to live beside
the children of every garbage love
song that worked.

song prompt from Ashley L