‘They Don’t Sell Pregnancy Test Kits This Late’ – a new poem by Alvy Carragher, who writes:
This one deals with that awful moment when you’re not sure if you’re pregnant and the shame/angst/options that you inevitably end up weighing in your mind. I think it’s important at the minute because we are hoping to repeal the 8th, and the more people that learn to understand the position women are in, the better.
Previously: Mordor On The Dancefloor
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Spare us.
that woman has issues far greater than a missed period.
Oh, so depressing on so many levels.
Even a man knows that if you miss a period or two a pregnancy test is rather pointless. Don’t they teach this poo in school?
Yes, anyone who’s learnt about the female reproductive system exclusively through the medium of sitcoms knows that.
Wow check out all the guys dissing the woman talking about her body… interesting
Ill correct that for you
‘Check out all the guys dissing the dreadful adolescent poetry that just happens to be by a woman’
Women can conceive as adolescents so it’s a fair perspective. There have been many a case of
an adolescent giving birth to children in Ireland into/ out of bad circumstances, something that
having abortion rights in Ireland would address. Think about it. Stop reacting have a little think.
or maybe ,,,,just maybe don’t be riding the wannabe rock star who is now off with other women?
just a thought.
If you want casual sex (and I do) be prepared for the consequences…no matter how small the risk
Keep it professional.
“Not sure if you’re pregnant”… Not sure eh? I’m not sure if I saw a big pink stork last night or it was all a dream…
lol, i take it your period is very regular, but do us a favour, don’t post when pms-ing
I find poetry a lot more poignant when it’s not being blathered at me from YouTube. And when it’s not terrible
Mother, you had me
But I never had you
Good god what did i just watch
I had a similar nervous wait after my last visit to an escort
My tears my tears, come pillow soak
My fears my fears, the condom broke
€100 deliver unto me an hour’s awkward pleasure
But a kiss is refused me by this young Asian treasure
Bounteous bosom becomes mother and guide
I am the customer. I am the customer
Or are you the customer
Is there even a customer
Or simply two cries of pain
In the sweltering womb of this rain-soaked back lane.
Eloquent and moving..
Just watched it… I’ve lost the will to live