Deep down in the testes;
testes wrapp’d in a thick scrotus,
micro-organisms always spring up,
travelling thro’ the Red Sea of dusts,
with liquid-ornament’d fluids;
down again straight to that strong iron rod,
standing like Moses’ rod
Zoom! It kicks that rubber-band pot-hole
in a long period of down and up,
trying to form frisky foetus
which looks like an unborn reptile.
Now he screams for help
Aft’r nine days in a hermit.
Weaning, he passes thro’:
four legs, he crawls in;
in two, he walks to make a living;
to three, he lat’r journeys back;
weak, he dies and returns to the dust
where his relations – wombs! – feed on ‘im,
now longing to be born again.
Eche Ononukwe
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/coming-and-going-2/
