When all your thoughts maternal
Turn out to be the expression most primal
Of your hidden inner animal

Your body mechanical
Resorts to instincts eternal
You realise you are a mammal

You see your body ridiculed and vile
All beauty turned functional, seduction forgotten, hostile

Food producing blobs of flesh, Keeping the milk fresh
Exit tunnel made of muscle flexible, No paradise expectable
Utilitarian outlet, Your most prized assets,
Turned to mere machines

Your warm skin
And your strong arms akin
All nature’s schemes

Fertility mother of continuity
Eating at your carpentry

Your sharp hearing
Your tender loving
All tricks for the survival
Of the squealing little humanling
None of it yours, none of it essential, all of it vital
Sad and mumbling humbling truth of the living