^{translated from the Catalan by Mary Ann Newman}

Our mother who art in heat

blessed be your cunt

your epidural, your midwife,

may your screams reach us,

your love, your strength.

Your will be done in our uterus

on earth.

Give us this day our everydays,

and let not the sons of bitches

abort love, make war,

no, deliver us from them

now and forever,

Vagina.



A[wo]men ...

Small atoms of themselves a world may make,

As being subtle, and of every shape:

And as they dance about, fit places find,

Such forms as best agree, make every kind.

For when we build a house of brick, and stone,

We lay them even, every one by one:

And when we find a gap that’s big, or small,

We seek out stones, to fit that place withall.

For when not fit, too big, or little be,

They fall away, and cannot stay we see.

So atoms, as they dance, find places fit,

They there remain, lie close, and fast will stick.

Those that unfit, the rest that rove about,

Do never leave, until they thrust them out.

Thus by their several motions, and their forms,

As several work-men serve each others turns.

And thus, by chance, may a new world create:

Or else predestined to work my fate.