When I begin to think of myself.
My girded shell squeezing
Oysters in a jar;
My oily viscera
Jammed and joggled
Into impossible places.
My pancreas
Is never where it should be;
My esophagus cut cleanly
Swirls in a diaspora.
My tongue is a trapped
In a tangle of intestines–
My voice gargles and froths.
Even I can’t understand…
Guttural vowels;
Unutterable lisps and yawps;
Chomping embryos
Cannibalize each other:
Pulsing. Mawing.
Insatiable. Frenzy.
When I reach inside the palpable stew
Everything slips from my hand,
And I am left with nothing
But this poem.
