Nativity
The method of delivery defines
the type of mammal we, they, you,
are. The category of creature I am.
They are monotreme, they who are reptilian,
birdlike in their method of birth. A cracked
white shell announces their first day.
Monotremes possess cloacas. One canal
to expel excrement, urine, and the egg
that descends from within to remain without.
You are marsupial, you who clamber
undeveloped into your momma’s pocket.
Out of differentiated birth canal you arrive
to climb incomplete into her warm pelted
pouch. No one blames you
for this extra time inside.
I who am placental—food and waste
conveyed via same-serving, cloaca-like rope.
Then, cord sliced, tied: belly button bulge.
Initially conjoined, I was cut free upon first breath
alive. An entire lifetime spent nursing
such self-determining slice.
Ana Maria Caballero is a poet and artist whose work explores how biology delimits societal and cultural rites, ripping the veil off romanticized motherhood and questioning notions that package sacrifice as a virtue. She's the recipient of an Academy of American Poets Prize, the Beverly International Prize, Colombia’s José Manuel Arango National Poetry Prize, the Steel Toe Books Poetry Prize, a Future Art Writers Award and a Sevens Foundation Grant. In 2024, she became the first living poet to sell a poem at Sotheby’s and has sold the first digital poem via live auction in Spain. Her Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net-nominated work has been published extensively and exhibited as fine art at museums and leading international venues, such as the Wroclaw Contemporary Museum, Museo de Arte Miguel Urrutia, bitforms, Office Impart, Poetry Society of America, Gazelli Art House, New World Center and Times Square. The author of six books, she's also a founder of digital poetry gallery theVERSEverse.