Orphans - Poem by Patrick O'Reilly
We tied up the orphans in thin, white twine
I held them up at arm's length between my thumb and my finger
And we brought them downtown.
We left them on the steps of the Breakwater convent,
Like Jochebed pushing a basket down the river,
Completely uncertain how big they will grow
Or if they would rather just falter and shrivel and die on the step.
And of course, I am still completely uninterested,
Because I have no time for such unwanted bastards as these.
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