Doobi’s birthday

A collaboration with the inestimable, incomparable Doobi Her¹

How was the day of your birth?
That fateful and glorious day.

It was harsh.

I was cosy and
cuddly and warm,
and then I got out.

It was dirty, and slimey.

I needed to breathe,
eat, talk, walk,
work.

1. Catherin asked the question in the first stanza, and Doobi’s response makes up the balance of the poem. ↩︎