Last One Standing Poem by Andrus Cassian

Last One Standing



I'm beginning to burn up
Nine months, I've been cramped in this cocoon for nine months
I have questions but no voice to ask them with
I have questions but no one to answer
What are the words for the appendages attached to me
Why, have for nine months
why have I seen nothing but darkness
but hear everything
Why, for nine months, have I been...
What's the word...evolving?
What is this strange process
Wait, wait why am I being constricted, suffocated
wait my thoughts, my questions...I still have so much to ask
wait...what is my...
Bright light...where am I...what is this place
...a cry? Did that come from me?
this rush of electricity...is this breathing?
the rumored breathing of feeling alive?
And this..is this fair-haired, grey eyed man my...father?
'Hello my son, welcome to this world'
Father? ...what is my name...?
No, no...where is my voice...where are my words...
why are cries the only thing I can form...
yet I feel light and heavy...
who is this tired, hazel eyed woman
Tears? Why does she cry...
Is she my...mother?
Mother...what is my name...?
'Arthur...Arthur Hanson'

Saturday, June 7, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: birth
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