The Birth of Adam

Now
You curl
Fussy to furl
The womb room cosy
You tumble and turn
as you trumpet your rosy free life
but fear keeps you stapled and strung
Then it will be the pushing and flush
to pitch your birth cries and squirms
Position your head to heave
Will it be sharp and squashed?
This passage from womb
But are you ready?
Head down to slide
A big glide,
Head seen,
Great!