I am waiting in three time zones
for an embryo to pass muster
clearance on a womb
legal not in a region of conflict
and payment to go through to their broker
rubbing my sore hip my one
shoulder sat like a step
lower than my signing hand I know
none
of the polished-arse pinned-back-eared
break my nose with a hammer and make me pretty
prospects
would pick me
in the catalogue
hear them tiptoe
plink plink amid the faults
their baby can't possess
when genetics come 99% assured they lose sleep
on the one percent of risk
nobody wants
a bad investment and
you weren't born
to be
an inspiration
we are peering at six cells
looking for the shame