by Ashley Pennock
My uterus is in revolt
paul Revere on his horse;
Saddle up, you’re a
woman now. Fear it, take a knee-
The British are coming.
Redcoats, in a pool between your legs,
Revere it. This is the miracle of birth
Of war
Of womanhood,
Babies screaming on the battlefield
Snap. The umbilical cord, snaking
slithering
Eat the apple, Eve. Unbiblical voice,
Sinners rejoice, beware of the
body.
Spilled guts, secrets stuck
behind pale
Lips. Kiss the blood, paint them red-
You have a job interview tomorrow.
Mud on the lids and gunpowder for the cheeks;
Congrats, you are a
woman now,
Made up. Fireworks dance over creamy nails, careful-
They burn. Men
plunging their swords into redcoats, thrusting;
vaginal Declaration, rightful penetration,
Sinners rejoice, a standing ovation. But no-
not now, eggs must always be kept
refrigerated. Pull the sword from the stone, you are
the Chosen one. Slick with blood, victorious, Camelot
written on the mattress. Now is the time-
Guns discharge, eggs fire;
through barrels and tubes meet their
target. Did I win? My thighs are still bloody.
***
Ashley Pennock is a young writer from New Jersey and current English Writing major at the University of Pittsburgh. She enjoys writing fantasy, experimental, and LGBTQ+ stories. Her work has been included in Papers Publishing, Alternative Milk Magazine and The Writers Circle Journal.