In the whole forest, you were just
a fat rabbit caught in a fallen, hollow log.
You were just a bee in the
flower of a trumpet vine.
You were just things inside of
I rose up into the sky,
cold like the outer atmosphere,
and the anaesthesiologist
with his surgical beard net
like a cloud said
Tell me what we are doing.
and I said You are removing my
right fallopian tube
and he was satisfied but I wasn't
so I added and the embryo
Kara Synhorst lives in Sacramento with her wife and two kids as head weirdo in a house full of weirdos. She is a procrastinating poet and musician, as well as a high school teacher of English and Theory of Knowledge. Her poems have appeared in Poetry Now, Sacramento News and Review, Found Poetry Review, Ophidian, Convergence-journal, and others.
Write something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview.