Pulsion bears a driven force,
pro, like jet stream, prefix com,
impelling urge, expelling air,
that irresistance in the blood,
against the pulse, pump beaten heart,
repulsive to the grace of choice.
For that I hear a blackbird sing,
rings hardwood, hammer, pecker trunk,
see guppy flutter fantail bling,
arachnid fling, feast widow fate,
a baby wail for hunger, clings
to mother’s empty, swing drained paps.