I was born with attention
turned to a mouse in the corner
of the labor room.
Sclera shot through with lightning

once the mucus cleared.
My mother tried to pump
her thoughts into my head.
My father gave me unsophisticated

social skills. I first tried to create
a striving moratorium. All breathing
stopped. Blue flowed
over my skin like a squid.

But they put me in a warm box
where something worked
on my behalf, and that
was like a path.