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The scope went down the food pipe
Lighting its contracting walls
Down to a frothing stomach
Where they scratched out
A piece of suspected tissue
To look at it later at leisure
And ascertain the secrets of its texture.
I lay embryo-like
Folding my hands around my head
In prostration to the might of science
A toy in the hands of bespectacled intelligence
Pouring over me in profound seriousness.
I lay embryo-like
Sedated in primal state
As my entrails curled up
Like earthworms in the sun
To their curious prodding.
Another tube headed up the colon
To pinch a piece
Of an innocent polyp
That swayed its head
Like hyacinth in the wind.
Blood splashed around bright
Painted the flesh Picasso-like.
They would look at the bit later again
Under their scopes
In air-conditioned labs
And nod their heads
In grave silence.
God only knows what that would mean.
Or, who would care?
I could only think embryo-like
Sedated into my primal state.
The tubes scoured me up and down,
They thought they knew me too well now,
To fill their talks at lunch
What each cell, each hole, each bit
Of my pulsating corpus meant.
Yet I lay sedate, unknown to them
Like a sunken sun behind the crimson hill
Radiating into trees, winds and sky
And the last chirps of homing birds,
Housing a universe in my heart.
They thought they knew me too well
As they peered into every cell
For foreboding changes that spelt hell.
Yet, they knew me not
The one who lay sedate
Worlds away from them
Holding the universe in his fondly clasp. |
