Warm, red-faced headache.
Hot elaborate mess.
In spite of good intentions,
I can never sleep in strange beds.

My mother told me she went into labor
outdoors in January,
smashing up ice with a shovel.
She felt something break-
a sharp pain.

I imagine her on the way to the hospital;
teeth clenched,
holding me in like a bowel movement.

Is this the way it happens-
they hold you in for as long as they can?

I was reading by the time I was three.
A smart little shit.