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Momma said I come
Into the world
Backward
Upside Down
Like a root beer float
Clean and creamy
Then full ‘o bubbles
Like champagne
My stem
Came before my
Flute
She said my
Cry
Was like gin and tonic
That my face looked
Like an intoxicated
Cherub
She suspected
I like to have been a tree
That stepped on its own
Seeds
Breaking them into paper
Notes
To turn itself into
A Song
Alive
Due to natural causes


Back then Mama lived in the State of Rebellion
Finding gratefulness in my emancipation
From her profane piercing proclamations


“…all persons held as slaves” within the rebellious states “are, and henceforward shall be free…”

~ The Emancipation Proclamation, 1863 ~