I guess I didn't have a choice when the coil
fell out, that's after her lips turned blue and blew
up like rubber. But I think I truly knew
when, cleaning loins of spermicidal oil,
she said it was my turn and screamed that one boy
You'd had it done and "only two
small cuts" was true ... but then you knew, didn't you?—
the pliers' sickening snip and the ache in the groin.
Now barren, bowed and bruised I heard from the nurse
you were waiting outside for your bow-legged kid
brother with a rented funeral hearse—
and grinning like a liar said "painful innit?"
I was in stitches but it no longer hurt
though when I wed my second wife it did.
Lew Watts is originally from Wales and, after many years in Africa, the Middle East and Europe, now lives in Santa Fe and Chicago in the US. His most recent work has appeared in 14by14, Able Muse, Decanto, Modern Haiku, The Raintown Review and Orbis amongst others, and his first collection Lessons for Tangueros–about the experience of learning to dance tango–was published in 2011.