Slowly but firmly I plunge a thumb-
tack into the egg until
*tick*
the shell relents to my point.
Surgically, then, I unbend
a paperclip, force it through
that decimal, jog it up and down
to pierce the yolk before shaking—
scrambling chalaza, vitellus, albumen…
I don’t think about babies
until I press the egg to my lips
and blow. My embouchure is weak
as my pelvic floor; four months post-
partum, I almost pee as I try to evict
that would-be chick, to prepare for pysanky.
*****
Desperate to control wild geese populations,
professional egg addlers search for nests,
shake eggs until they slosh—full
of unviable deoxyribo-soup. It’s vital
these lifeless decoys are returned
to the nest. Incubating
geese won’t try for another
clutch.
Desperate
for control, the self-induced abortion
had been attempted with a coat hanger
inserted into the cervical os some
time in the 3 days before
admission to the hospital.
The reason…was lack of money
for a therapeutic abortion. Using a chisel
& long iron hook, Egyptian
embalmers punched holes
through skulls to liquify,
addle & drain obsolete brains.
*****
My mommy brain feels much
the same. My belly soft, my insides
loose—still slowly slinking
into place. I feel eviscerated,
excerebrated—
a chicken with(out) its head;
cut off
—addled & drained.
And yet, beneath my wings I gather
my walking canopic jars—my sweet
little chicks—teach them my tricks
to purging the pent-up potential
from each egg before we dye.
References
Honigman, B., Davila, G., & Petersen, J. (1993). Reemergence of self-induced abortions. The Journal of Emergency Medicine, 11(1), 105–112.
