Botchling Born at Bedside

Coddled sutured botchling 

Spoken from the bow

The crib a whining monster,

Unhinged, mandible jowls.

Wide eyed into the darkness

Lulled cries became a roar,

A botchling born at bedside

mothers rib cage torn.

Crawling from its marbled skin

Its nurture suckled dry,

The land, the fiends, the inbetweens

devour childlike eyes.

The infant thuds are coming

Rustling down the hall

The scratches at the wooden door,

The gurgling newborn spawn.

Reaching out to daddy

To feed a little lad,

Mother and brother weren't enough,

It needs flesh for blanket wraps. 

Those trodden little legs

On ham hocked boney knees

Bash against the floor

It climbs for daddy's teeth!

It preys upon the breath

Reaching for wriggled tongue,

No punch nor scream

Could silence thee,

From the deed that daddy had done!

For when he pushed dear mommy

His anger made a slip,

Even in death—the babe was born

Fathers stomach is now a crib.