A. M. dreams his own reassembly
1 Minute Read Time
Before long I’ll need a good anatomist
let her macerate this
body how she sees fit with water
in acid or
beetles or compost but with a final
cleanse in ammonia
please—so long as the bones come out
pearly
so long as she interpret them faithful to
this life but maybe
more faithful to the next
Go on and discard as much
bone as you need
only with new steel through the neural
canal why not
lift my sternum? if you love me
in your redesign
why not try contrapposto like the
David or
Lot’s wife why not human walking as
though we were
a pair on the trail back to Sodom to
a kitchen somehow still
standing you knew just what I’d say
when the burner
was left on how I’d cradle the smoke
detector ’til it hushed.
Read more from Issue 22.1.
