Robs Seriously Funny Poems

Robs Seriously Funny Poems - Dammit and the Placenta A week...

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Dammit and the Placenta A week before my birth a cement truck sideswiped Mom’s Volvo and I clutched placenta like a safety bar on a roller coaster, but I let go when they wrapped forceps around my malleable skull to yank me through the C-section so I came out with a head like a dented orange not eight months after I was conceived, a premature boy who 24 years later still eats Oreos before bed and wants to be the little spoon when cuddling. At age eleven I was the only kid at overnight camp still wearing comic-themed briefs, and older boys popped the elastic bands of my underwear against my ass until I shouted “quit it, dammit!” so they called me “Dammit” like it was my name: “Dammit’s too slow for battleball,” “stop whining, Dammit, go to sleep,” and I wish that my placenta was at camp because Malaysians believe the placenta is the baby’s older sibling, and Nigerians give it a full funeral, believing it has life, but in Louisiana we just incinerate the thing without spreading the ashes. If my name’s Dammit then my placenta’s name was Shithead, and for months we debated whether Santa prefers Oreos or Chips Ahoy, discussed parallel universes made of Legos or Lincoln Logs, and criticized the Justice League for leaving out Spiderman even
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Robs Seriously Funny Poems - Dammit and the Placenta A week...

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