A poem preview from my upcoming book Nulligravida, out October 31st!

If you’re childfree or a fence-sitter, you don’t want to miss this.

CW: This particular poem is a metaphor for either using emergency contraception or obtaining a pre-viability abortion.

All I did was pick a weed 
but you treat me like dandelions 
are 14-carat-gold conquistadors, 
like simpering Cortés is the sun 
of all sons, Quetzalcoatl — 
you'd have me believe it was precious 
Destiny, despite his precocious invasion 
into green land that never needed him, 
no! that dried to yellow drought 
for his persistent presence, 
choking life right out of its roots. 
            My roots 
are preserved by the lion's uprooting.