Last night we were all sitting in the living room. My son looks up from his portable gaming device and asks, “How does the man get the baby in the lady?” I look at my husband and he offered to tell him while he gave him a haircut. Relieved, I stuck my nose in my book and listened to bits and pieces of their conversation.
I have to say, my husband did really well; a little too well, for when my son came back down, he says to me, “I want to be ubiquitous with eighty children!”
I laughed and we continued the conversation while leafing through “Gray’s Anatomy.” I was sure to mention the effects of overpopulation and how hard it can be to raise children in a world that still needs a lot of fixing. He seemed to understand and made it well known to us that it would also be “the decision of myself and future wife.”
Oh dear. Why did I have kids again?
Anyways, after looking at some of the diagrams in Gray’s, I came across a body part that I didn’t know we had. I only found about it through the medical student that does the radio show before mine on CIUT. She explained to me that the first time the students open up a body, they encounter this huge covering called the omentum. I was fascinated about her description and after reading what little is known about it, I made a little poem called “Omentum.”
Honestly, I don’t know how we’ve come this far in life without individuals knowing everything about their own bodies. How have we come this far without knowing how the female orgasm works? Don’t get me started with that.
As I’ve mentioned before, for the month of April, my chapbook “Maybe” is in an exhibit by Poetry is Dead (curated by Daniel Zomparelli) at Project Space called, “Arte Factum.”
More information can be found here: http://projectspace.ca/blog/?p=110#more (A copy of “Maybe” will also be archived at Project Space and more copies will be available for purchase there as well.).
You know what caught me there? That not only will my book be in an exhibit by Mr. Zomparelli, but also with chapbooks by derek beaulieu and Warren Dean Fulton, artists I admire. I wish I could go to Vancouver for it, but alas, I do not have a TARDIS.