Viscera

“Cosmogenesis #52” by Paul Shapiro

 

words rumble under my ribcage
trapped in thoracic pink spaces
bouncing off organs arranged
between belly and heart
here they’ll probably live till
the coroner’s blade sets them free
but then what would they do in a morgue

unless I can get peristalsis to urge them
through miniscule channels
the riverine lymphatic vessels
up into my arms and then
down through my capillar
fingertips where I would tap them
out onto the keys of my dell

then both you and I
the whole literate world
could all see
just exactly
what they
have been longing
to say