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