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9 MONTHS
I was put up for adoption. Given away after nine months in her womb, How does she feel today? Does she wonder about me, Or was I just an inconvenience And a reason to go visit her Aunt. In El Paso.
Naked and covered in fluids, How did I look to her? A little rat, all wrinkled and wet? Still connected by the cord that came out of her. One cut, and we were separate.
Snip. Separate lives, separate people
I looked in the mirror once And thought I saw her. Or maybe it was him. I don’t know, it was dark, and I was drunk. Sometimes I see her in a crowd, And she pretends not to see me. But I know she does.
I tried to find her once The lady on the phone Was such a bitch. She told me it did not matter What my heritage is. That lots of people know, It does not change anything. I hung up.
Click. Separate Lives, separate people.
I think I’ll take a nap. Lay down someplace warm Someplace familiar That feels like home. For about nine months.
C. Hunter Kinsey Seattle, WA Birth: 03/17/1969, El Paso, Texas Agency adoption: New Mexico State Child Welfare
(This feature appeared in the Summer 2001 issue of the Bastard Quarterly.) Copyright 2001
Bastard Nation
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