I rose from marsh mud 

I oozed from tabernacle brack 

amid caterwaultails 

gushthrushes deltalillies 

sluiced with lack swaddled 

in slack I rose from the low 

scar of my momma’s belly 

son of a fracker 

a quiet motherfucker 

tucked into sins original 

baptized babe in a callous chalice 

in viscous liquid 

dry as puss and snot 

and the blood of a vicious bent nose 

I leaked shame 

from cracks and crevices 

was slain by the sleeze 

of blame embossed by blithe writhing 

of scarcity my million tries 

to shake loose 

the chaff of a name 

sift and reduce to thick truth 

left with two vexing advices

your body is a gift you have to live through