At Least Babies Don't Grow Out Of Condoms

This is a fine example of writing a piece from the perspective of the inanimate object. Although, having said that, the "I" of the poem and the condom remain distinct while metaphorically fusing. I think that's one of the main strengths in the piece, that sustained dualism. The discarded condom is the discarded body/heart of the "I", both not knowing what they've "got themselves into", both being branded as "trash". It's very clever; not least in the way it fuses humour and a sense of "poignancy". I like the final subtle ironies in the sense that the sperm not dying is a "tragedy" - the possibilty of birth rather than death. Though, perhaps despite itself, there's almost an ironic inversion, a reluctant sense of the positive in the phrase "they've found mine" ...An urbane and well crafted piece...Rgds.,Alan.