Majid Ali, M.D.
An online expecting mom,
Belly swelling off-life,
Pondering her unborn-online,
A life not-yet off-life.
Never hugging, nor cuddling,
Inside a stranger growing.,
Wondering, wandering off-life,
The online mom huffing, puffing.
Then arrives nine months later,
A newborn not-yet off-life.
Or perhaps five months later,
Or, in eleven months time?
The mom held the newly born,
Created and experienced off-life,
A baby sworn nor unsworn.
Naked, squirming, not-yet off-life,
Delivered under flashing, oscillating light.
Strange flesh, a product structured off-life.
A newborn online, not-yet off-life.
She stares at blood-smeared
A wet, contorting being,
An online daughter, not endeared.
Not touched, not moved, not elated.
Looking up, then down
On the closed-eyed, motionless body,
Then at the befuddled father
Years on-line, long off-life.
The online newborn jerks a tiny arm,
The online father shrinks back,
The ways of lives lived off-life
Online, online, and always off-life.