[Susan McLean]

Firstborn (3rd revision)

You focus on them fixedly, the first
part of you that leaves but stays alive—
as if your hand could crawl and cry and thirst.
Although they need your care just to survive,
they're out of your control. Of course they're cursed.
You're vulnerable through them. For them to thrive,
you sacrifice and save, your funds disbursed
to smooth their way. You hope they will arrive.

The firstborn suffer hardest for the friction
between their parents' pride, control, and loss:
restive, rebellious, always in the wrong.
But when each choice they make is your affliction,
they stumble toward a place they can belong:
displayed on a front page or on a cross.


Firstborn (2nd revision)

You focus on them fixedly, the first
part of you that leaves but stays alive,
as if your hand could crawl and cry and thirst,
dependent on your care just to survive,
yet out of your control. Of course they're cursed.
You're vulnerable through them. For them to thrive,
you sacrifice and save, your funds disbursed
to smooth their way, ensuring they'll arrive.

The firstborn suffer hardest for the friction
between their parents' pride, control, and loss:
restive, rebellious, always in the wrong.
But when each choice they make is your affliction,
they stumble toward a place they can belong:
displayed on a front page or on a cross.

Revisions:
L2 was "part of you to leave but stay alive,"
L11 "restive" was "always"
L12 was "When every choice of theirs is your affliction,"

Firstborn (revision)

You focus on them fixedly, the first
part of you to leave but stay alive,
as if your hand could crawl and cry and thirst—
without your help, unable to survive,
yet out of your control. Of course they're cursed.
Through them, you're vulnerable. For them to thrive,
you must be sapped, and what is yours, disbursed
to fund their journey, so they may arrive.

The firstborn suffer hardest for the friction
between their parents' pride, control, and loss:
always rebellious, always in the wrong.
When every choice they make is your affliction,
they stumble to a place where they belong:
displayed on a front page or on a cross.


Firstborn

You focus on them fixedly, the first
part of you to go solo and survive,
as if your hand could crawl and cry and thirst
without you, needing you to stay alive,
yet out of your control. Of course they're cursed:
through them, you're vulnerable. For them to thrive,
you must be sapped, depleted, and disbursed
to fund their journey, so they may arrive.

The firstborn suffer hardest for the friction
between their parents' pride, control, and loss:
always rebellious, always in the wrong.
When every choice they make is an affliction
to you, they find the one place they belong:
displayed on a front page or on a cross.