Parturition Chairs I-V – by Isabella G Mead
Poetry Isabella G Mead Poetry Isabella G Mead

Parturition Chairs I-V – by Isabella G Mead

How can a chair look like a scream? 

And why do its arms recoil? 

A cry trapped in polished walnut 

curves and re-curves. No frills in a shout.

Sit here only if you want to feel six-legged.

Where is the voice that birthed its legs?

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