Appendectomy
or the cannula speaks
by Mckendy Fils-Aime
its never about the human,
the day or so it takes them
to surrender. your necrotic song
filling the hollows of small intestine.
the body two stepping to fever
sweat rhythm, but you: a derailed
ruby train abandoned on the outskirts
of town. purpose gone
millennia ago. now patience is an ache
settled in your gears. I know this pain
spreading from below nerve & terror
towards the human's throat
is just you squirming for death
or freedom. Sometimes I dream
that you are not an appendage
at all, but a cowboy; procaine
horse looping around the body
like a circuit until the town goes quiet
enough for me to sneak in, my metal
silhouette bursting with light: aluminum
angel descending. I grab your hand & pull.
Gyroscope Review 9!