Born not made

 You were born not made

Plastic man with a plastic spade digging his very own

Plastic grave

Plastic coffin

On a plastic earth

Lasts forever

But never gives birth

Burn proof bomb proof

Like a shot gun

To the heart

Exploding in the plastic sky

That rains its plastic pellet dearth

Made not born

Plastic babies

For he was born not made

Where is maternity in modernity

Always the instinct but never distinct

Like a Nubulae some way off

In outer space, blowing plastic bubbles

What shall I do?

Live the same life as you

Live out of a shoe

Or draw the same knife as you

Cut the same grass

Bend the same blade

Some people are born while others are made

Plastic birth, and plastic bottle

Plastic message, written while they throttle

The plastic Life that never stayed, life that was torn

Life

Born but not made

Someone is coming

Summon the maid

Turn up the volume

On sister slayed

I hold the perch, like a parrot in a church,

like a symphony played

Somethings are born, while others are made

Tell me the future, the one of the earth

Where some cuts have sutures

Like umbilical births

Sew up the uterus, and make it all cutaneous

Nothing has depth, except the walls of sound

Somewhere underground, subterraneous

Where waste is aloud, and all pollution is bound

I hold my breath, here comes plastic death

Some things are born while others are made 

Plastic womb and plastic babies

crying where they laid

Plastic mothers in plastic pain

Plastic fathers out in the cold dark rain

Some people are born, while others are made