The sun is up,
Girls are busying busy queuing to take a bath,
Inside the laundry room my pants hang damp
The alley floor scatters food left-over-
A simple food fiesta for hungry cats,
The surroundings is the same, even if they
Have grown green leaves and let go of
Withered petals, even though their branches
Spread-out, even though they give life to us-
Still their existence remains the same.
The mineral water bottle is empty,
The orange and blue tumblers
Stand proudly even they are ¾ filled with water,
Even though they appear like thirsty
Penises.
The mineral water bottle is like a womb-
A hallow room of a baby.
The lid is open,
Making it vulnerable to objects that are
Willing to penetrate.
These trains of thoughts are complete-
Giving birth to an inanimate objects,
Producing a poem,
Producing a baby out of words.
Words is equal to a whole creature-
A baby,
A baby is born and so with my poem**.
*The idea is an allusion to the movie Juno
**The last line is changed as suggested by Ate Thea
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