someone more devout than i
once said
the heart is king
and the lungs are his ministers

a holy confidence of respiration

this life giving exchange of oxygen

love starved

blood relations

never more true
than when conspiring together
inside the body a poet

i am deliberate in my neglect
of my organs
as it is certain
my mind, womb, soul, and
governing provinces of the throat
are at risk

“ah, to hell with it!”

she says

with sweeping gestures of her hand

so grand

“he’s the dick to my liz…”

as if she hasn’t been told

“…all i know is that i’m supposed to wake up
next to him in the morning…”