Pock-marked by metal bits
popping out of skin like new nipples
that sprout in sterile places
there are wires sucking life in and out of bodies,
nurses swim in bile
that fills each sealed rectangle.
faces are comedies or tragedies;
in private ways we
come to terms with the strength and
delicacy of these sacks of flesh
regulated by unsubtle chemicals
everything pushes against surfaces.
insert object, release
the prick of this needle is indifferent
to my skin pressing outwards
against others
we must yield to these waves
and the hands that feed us fluids
where are you when I need you
my head is engaged in a trial
floating above a body that never swims
only sinks on display in this
murky aquarium
the next night we ate whale
ReplyDelete"faces are comedies or tragedies;"
ReplyDeleteYes!