Friday, March 4, 2011

Having Kids - A Non Refundable Exercise

Once while sitting with a friend enjoying some (ahem) condiments on a weekend night we began that time honored tradition of playfully insulting each other. We were ripping on each other with abandon when suddenly he said:

"You're so stupid it's a miracle you even found your way through the Microphyte Doorway"

I was taken aback because I had no idea what the heck that even meant. When pressed for an explanation he said the Microphyte Doorway is "the hole in the egg the sperm goes through." I thought that was pretty damn funny and conceded his victory in that round of insults.

That night and the term "Microphyte Doorway" was soon forgotten and for years it never crossed my mind again... until this poem poured into my head one day...

WARNING: The following poem contains language that may be offensive to some readers. Proceed with caution.

The Microphyte Doorway

He used to suckle at your breast
When he was just a babe.
Now you sit and wonder
What you and your husband made.
He likes to dress in leather.
He acts a little queer.
He's got your favorite goldfish
Stapled to his ear.
He's in trouble with the law.
You think he's smoking pot.
He says he's joined a coven
And you know he drinks a lot.
Sometimes you sit and wonder,
If he's dangerous.
Sometimes you ask your husband,
"Is it because of us?"
It's like having a monster,
Living in your home.
All the little things he does
Chill you to the bone.
When you say you love him,
And want to help him out,
"Fuck you and your stupid life"
Is all that he will shout.
You'd better hide the carving knives
When he comes home to play.
Don't you wish he had missed
The Microphyte Doorway?
The Microphyte Doorway.

She was sure a happy child.
Such a living doll.
Now she smokes the litter,
From the cat box down the hall.
She wears outlandish make-up.
She stays out late each night.
You used to have such special talks.
Now all you do is fight.
Her eyes are glazed most all the time,
Just stares off into space.
Spends just about all her time,
In some secret place.
Sometimes you sit and wonder,
If she's hooked on angel dust.
Sometimes you ask your husband
"Is it her or is it us?"
It's like having a zombie,
Living in your home.
She spends her time shooting up.
She's almost always stoned.
When you say you love her,
And you know what life's about,
She just smiles a vacant grin
Says "Wow Mom, You're far out."
You'd better hide the candy jar
When she comes home to play.
Don't you wish she had missed
The Microphyte Doorway?
The Microphyte Doorway.

-G Laidlaw

Note:- After writing this poem I began to wonder if "Microphyte Doorway" was in fact a legit medical or scientific term for the hole in the egg that a sperm penetrates to effect fertilization. I did some admittedly less than extensive research and could find no reference whatsoever to "Microphyte Doorway" in relation to eggs, sperm, fertilization or anything else which, in retrospect, makes my buddy's insult even better for its creativity.

© Copyright by the Author. All rights reserved. Used with permission.

No comments:

Post a Comment