C-Section by Alexa Doran














Sometimes when the room is made of oak 


                   and I am made of flesh


the room and I mix like air and incense : our fusion a funnel of smoke


That’s how you left my body, Buggy


Cloud ladled out of me.

                  All the other babies


puddling between their mothers’ thighs


while you rose like any rainbow


                  a fountain of every light / but your own


 Unfettered flume!


the sky spread into a cape around you



*It was better not to touch you 

*It was better that the room was white and used

*That the surgeon whispered trippy as he felt the willow weight of you


Like all those plump bastards, young and hanging


                        from Michelangelo’s roof


you were cherub chiseled in the ceiling


and I was artist-peasant-falling 

beneath you


Son to say I was afraid


of the star cough covered in blood/of the birth of my son/of giving gravity its due


to say that I cannot huff and puff

                        enough to keep you afloat


is a version of the truth                 that never reaches you     like blades

                                               that rotate on a fan


                                           all you hear is my breath below choo choo    choo choo










Alexa Doran is a mother, a lyrical gangster, and a PhD student at FSU. She has recently been featured or is forthcoming in CALYX, The Pinch, Gertrude Press, The Dr. T.J. Eckleburg Review, Juked, Connotation Press, and Posit literary magazines. One of her poems about Dada artist Emmy Hennings recently won first place in the Sidney Lanier Poetry competition.






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