Deep down in the testes; <br /> <br />testes wrapp’d in a thick scrotus, <br /> <br />micro-organisms always spring up, <br /> <br />travelling thro’ the Red Sea of dusts, <br /> <br />with liquid-ornament’d fluids; <br /> <br />down again straight to that strong iron rod, <br /> <br />standing like Moses’ rod <br /> <br /> <br /> <br />Zoom! It kicks that rubber-band pot-hole <br /> <br />in a long period of down and up, <br /> <br />trying to form frisky foetus <br /> <br />which looks like an unborn reptile. <br /> <br /> <br /> <br />Now he screams for help <br /> <br />Aft’r nine days in a hermit. <br /> <br />Weaning, he passes thro’: <br /> <br />four legs, he crawls in; <br /> <br />in two, he walks to make a living; <br /> <br />to three, he lat’r journeys back; <br /> <br />weak, he dies and returns to the dust <br /> <br />where his relations – wombs! – feed on ‘im, <br /> <br />now longing to be born again.<br /><br />Eche Ononukwe<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/coming-and-going-2/
