I have never had a political bone in my body. So while I know where I stand on “the social issues” (I am a Catholic) I generally don’t “go there” on this blog.
However, I read a poem about abortion this morning that is so disturbing I thought I would share it. You can judge for yourself in this feed from The Writer’s Almanac, which I read every day.
If I knew it was so easy to write a poem these days, without rhyme or meter, I might try myself. But meanwhile, I look on aghast at word choices that are as cold as the author is (or pretends he is?).
It was an accident . . .
She wants to keep it . . .
Dave has his doubts . . .
Confusion . . . Pain . . . Couples Counseling . . .
X-raying their relationship . . .
Tongueless little sachet of cells . . .
And of course the punch line:
Not My Problem.