Babies In A Jar Poem by Kevin Patrick

Mrs. Lewis keeps her trophies
All tucked inside glass jars
their kept as secret prizes
Where prying eyes can’t find

Their won from every summer
Through triumphs for losing
Her first base each trimester
From when she cruised for bruising

They’ll never grow too idle
The birds and bees she poisoned
She knows they’ll never toil
With tears from vicious bullies

Each day she makes a visit
Inside a surreptitious fridge
Where there are angel triplets
Indisposed of there remains


Their timeless form in centrifuge
Expunged embalmed forever pure
It fills the void of consciousness
And dress her sense of restlessness

For her father always said, she was his “super little girl”
But now she’s growing up, and all of life is just a whirl
Sad belladonna painted, a dyed chameleon for the night
Spinning comatose assailant through the void of carbon light
With an office, and a mortgage and graduates degree
Reaching high above her dreams, but always falling through the peak’s
Wears a face of winter grace, that betrays the strain of movement
Though she screams inside her grins, because she’s afraid they'll listen



Now she’s a mummy’s mother
Clairvoyants his her husband
They’ll never make her lonely’
Or stage the root of reackless folly

It feels good for something cold
She knows she can control
To reach thrills that’s never there
When no one asked her 'do you care? ”

There’s nothing that feels true
To feel a pulse opaquly rouge
And living normal’s dead for strange
When your hearts and mind is rearranged

Motherhood is everlasting
When the storkes gift is cold mutton
To host the reapers banquet
For all her babies in a bottle