A poem from Daye Phillippo (poetry, ’14) appears in Literary Mama:
When he refused to be born, when he stayed
curled and warm and huge inside, they
sent me from the hospital, said Go home and rest,
but I weeded the parched garden instead.
After a time, the boy’s father stepped outside,
suggested I might come in out of July’s brass
heat for a glass of water, at least, but I glared
. . . continue reading here.