Russell Edson Poems

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A women had given birth to an old man.

He cried to have again been caught in the pattern.

Oh well, he sighed as he took her breast to his mouth.

The woman is happy to have her baby, even if it is old.

Probably it got mislaid in the baby place, and when they
found it and saw that it was a little too ripe, they said,
well, it is good enough for this woman who is almost
deserving of nothing.

She wonders if she is the only mother with a baby old
enough to be her father.

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