Life and death, birthing and dying - and a bunch of this and that in between. Like asking the question: Which came first, the scatterbrain or the scrambled egg? Who better than Russell Edson to lay his own prose poem egg to posit an answer - no, correction, not aardvark an answer but deepen the question.
THE WOMB
There was a man who built himself something that looked like a womb. When he left it he'd say, I've just been born, spank me if you must, but please be kind.
And just before he entered it he would say, I'm just about to be conceived. I wonder who my mommy and daddy are? . . .
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