Arthur Newspaper

Agoraphobia

I left my face in the birth canal
As my bloody body slid 
Into the white waspy gloves of the nurse
That wept through my coronation
Into white middle class privilege
She swaddled me with oblivion plush
Conformity Cradle
I left my face in the birth canal
When I realized my bones
Fat with stock market marrow
Groped by the black suits
My Femur works for the
F.T.C
And I left my bones in the birth canal
Other days it is my skin
Sliming subservient flesh
Melting in a placental pudding 
Yes I left my skin in the birth canal too
Maybe If I was
Agoraphobic
I would have stayed home
And kept
My face