The Right Hand

My heart was in the right place,
grown children in the bloodlines
of my inner space, a practicum
for laboring over my cheese and cracker man
whose birth I toasted with a dark beer.
Sounds weird, I know, but I was thirsty.

For if women can give birth, then cloning life
can’t be such a far cry, especially when
what used to be cold is now hot
and hot cold. There’s a climate

of combined elements,
letters into a genetic code. It took trial and erratum
to reach the Golden Gateway, but like a game of Solitaire,
I got dealt the right hand.

Links to my work