Pregnant Rock Goddess

Baby inside me, rock as I roll.
Kick me if you need something
otherwise I’ll assume your girl parts are growing fine.
Before I know it, you’ll be 10
then 20,
covered in tattoos,
changing your hair color to match the seasons.
Maybe one day you’ll pick up a Fender Strat
and it will feel better than any food or finger.
You’ll lay your hands on it and know what’s what.
You can walk into any coastal kiss-off of a city,
run your fingers through the steely strings
and something beautiful will come.
Take after me in this way, because those were the moments
my life went from a promising seed
into an egg bright for hatching.
I’m not wishing on you the patter of needles
or the slaps in the face,
I’m saying to fill your life with songs
that the boys who strum you will never understand.
Grow into glory, float from my stomach like a bad angel,
take the world by storm,
make sure your first squall becomes something
you’ll sing and sing again.