Poor Poem

[heslopian]

At the moment of birth
you move into focus
my eyes burn
at deformities
and jaundice Because there's no comma here it sounds like "jaundice" is being used as a verb ("jaundice the way you gasp for air"), which disturbs the rhythm and syntax. In fact, I almost left a comment asking if jaundice can be used as a verb.
the way you gulp for air.

The cord is broke
and blood sponged up I'd recommend putting a comma here, as it would create a stronger pause before the next couplet, emphasising the images in both and making the half rhyme of "up" and "cut" more pronounced.

the wedding robes I love the comparison of an umbilical cord to wedding finery.
are coarsely cut.

Some flannel wipes I'd replace "some" with "a", because the longer syllable in "some" puts too much emphasis on "flannel" when the more important image is the spittle. That would just be my aesthetic choice, though.
the spittle from your chin.

Every orifice is plugged.
You lack a soul

and afterthoughts
just rot inside your skin. My favourite part of this poem. This couplet is agonisingly beautiful. "Just" is perfectly chosen and placed, while the image of afterthoughts rotting evokes stillbirth with such dark poignancy.

Sprinkle scent
spread the shroud A comma could go here for the same reason I suggested putting one after "sponged up": emphasis of imagery.

count the mourners
bearing flowers.

You sink beneath
the weight of others I might put a comma here, too.
give or take
an occasional bump.
I’m already pregnant
once again. Is "once" needed? This ending is great, but it would be better with just "again", I think.

The poem is a mix of grammatical marks and spaces between lines to indicate pauses, which doesn't quite work for me; I prefer one approach or the other. That's JMHO, though, as is all my critique, and the poem is an often very powerful evocation of a very painful experience. The title and last two lines ("I'm already pregnant/once again") make me think that it's about a poor wife - maybe in Victorian London, modern Africa, or where/whenever - who breeds like an ant because she doesn't have much choice. Some she loses, some she doesn't; stillbirths are no stranger to her. Thank you for the read