This Is a Poem about Abortion
Based on a real conversation I overheard between two airplane pilots.
Text within this block will maintain its original spacing when publishedTwo airplane pilots heading home from Sea-Tac stood swaying
on the full terminal shuttle. The younger man was caught up
in news of his friend’s wife; she had been in an accident.
Her car, with children and fetus in it, had rolled
over and over and everyone was uninjured, but the fetus
was stressed, so the woman was now restricted
to bed rest. The older man interrupted; he wanted to know
her name. The younger man went on to explain, these friends
kept going for a boy, but every time were disappointed,
and he thought they should stop; four girls would be good
enough. The older man promised he’d put her
on the church prayer list. He reminisced
how he and his wife would have had more than three,
if they could. After two and a miscarriage, they conceived
again so soon after the loss that his wife didn’t think
she could handle it; he responded, “We don’t have a choice,”
and she said, “I know.” The younger man nodded and agreed.