by S. Nash Woodward
Mama screams and blood out all over the floor head emerges clamped in Midwife's forceps hands twisting from slaps to the face to help Mama push as browns mix on the earth, mama, son, soil, teak black night waking sore and naming the child after a white man that lives down the road. S. Nash Woodward is a stunningly good-looking man who is, not surprisingly, full of himself. However, ladies, he is married. And bald (of his own doing). He enjoys ready-made egg products and long walks on the beach. He is currently planning on leaving the country for India, China, and anywhere else foolish enough to allow him entrance.
