Disassembly: Mine

Anthony Bernstein

This morning I awoke to discover

that my flesh had failed me,

peeled from my body and slithered away.

Intestines had eluded their cage of bones

once thought impervious to escape.

They uncoiled out an orifice (I won't say which one)

and wormed their way wetly to freedom.

As I drifted helpless in dream

my eyeballs popped from their orbits

and went on a roll; brains followed suit -

squeezing through the hollows of my sockets

and tumbling away to regions unknown.

Hands broke free at the wrists,

found asylum in a passing neighbor's pockets.

Feet swiftly detached themselves,

ran for the cover of sock and shoe.

I had no choice but to hobble

blind and on gory stumps

to the local junkyard to search

for cheap replacement parts..

I understand that owning original body parts

is a privilege, not a right; still,

I am deeply wounded by the break up.

Of course these days any of my ex parts can be

easily and cheaply replaced by pre-owned ones,

sometimes making an even better match than before.

But all my parts were attached before my birth,

I had developed a strong connection to each one.

I fervently hope that one day they will decide

to return home to the body that loves them.