Noelle Levy : Drink From My Breasts

Fall '07 TOC


I do not want to have a baby.
I do not want a body to emerge from my body;
I do not want to be pregnant.
I do not want to be a parent; I do not want
              to have a child.

I just want milk
to come out of my breasts; I want
sustenance to flow from my breasts; I
want to stand in the center of a town
milk flowing like a fountain
so that everyone may come and drink
from my breasts;
fragmented bum veterans
tottering up,
homeless bulgy-eyed children filling their
rickety bellies, each boy
businessman dribbling
drops of my milk on his stripy tie,
and don't you know the
sedated balls of researchers from
Procter and Gamble would
harden, retract as they drank from my breasts and
in their joy they would open the cages,
the cats, dogs, rats, and rabbits all running free would
lap up the milk as it dripped from my breasts
the whole town lined up for days
and the more who came the more milk
my breasts would make until
a river of milk flowed through the streets
the cars would stop, and drivers get out to taste
the sweet river of milk
and they would go home and make love
with whomever they chose
for days.

In the center of town I would stand
never tiring
and my roots would draw down, breaking asphalt like
cookie crumbles, and my breasts would
grow to the size of studio apartments
and the birds would make nests in my pubic hair
I do not want to have a baby;
I just want someone to drink
from my breasts.



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