Sculpted for the stocks
Stripped of a heifer’s back
Tanned and dyed before
It cools the heat from
Her old bones, sterilized,
Then, working hands
Stitch belts to its sides
To hang from metal bars
In the teaching room, stitch
Flaps for placing fetuses
Into natural positions
In the hardened birth
Canal, thick leather, that
Doesn’t stretch like living
Meat, murmurs and shakes
With our own jostled biceps,
Our own tingling shoulders,
Pulling a calf just through
The cervix, stitched 360°,
Feet first, two loops around
The carpi, then shoulders,
Ribs, turn 90° to keep hips
From locking beneath
Hips, cradle the whole
Hundred pounds before
The floor, this life is not
As heavy as you’d think.
