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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.