Anatomical

“Anatomical,” on the surprise of opening the oven to a tray of She/Her/Hers rolls that came anaotomically complete with lady parts, written Sunday, September 13, 2026 poem 256 in a series of 365 poems written by Diana Ludwick in 2026. Photo: "Field of Ladies," by Diana Ludwick © 2026.

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Anatomical
Macro image of a tray of fresh-baked seeded buns, that happen to look like women's genetalia, thanks to the inexpert use of a lame to separate the rolls' fascia frm its innards, leaving hair-like threads of dough across a dark suggestive crevice. Oh, my, my.


Imagine my surprise
when my day of baking
birthed pin-up art
from dough on the rise

Novice scalpel skills to blame, no doubt.
My incisions in would-be dinner rolls
puff into a Lilith Fair field of Bare Naked Ladies
labia minora, majora,
minor chord, oh my gourd.

I lean in, inspect my graphic goodies:
shorts hairs of dough line the lips,
sesame seeds play as goose flesh
and that tawny soft inner,
well that's thanks to teff.

Cheeks rosy with shock,
I stare at my assembly of womanly bits,
and I already know:
F--- it,
I'll still butter these biscuits.