Blue Baby Blue1

Under ultrasound murmurs

He is there like a bad dream

Of acid reflux and

Gastroenteritis, only

This time

He is real

‘

You expected full-formed

White flesh, molded like wax

A doll still warm and dripping

from the potter’s hand

But he is blue, the colour of

Alternative natal music that floods

Outwards fringing into queerness

And he is laughing back at you--

(you do not know what to think)

not a child’s tinkling rollover-laugh

He is an acrobat feigning his flails

Hiccupping to pause his insect limbs,

Crouching against the cord

that holds him dear

There are hints of his smile

Pressed upwards on a hollow,

outlined sphere; you must assume

He is happy. Your angel whose

electrified shoulder-blades

protrude like envisioned

feathered wings

‘

Now you know he is all Yours

1 Inspired by picture of fetus, found on http : www . (double slashes here!) sigur - ros . co. uk / images / foetus-art-big .jpg (close the gaps between words and punctuations!)