Dissection
P Patti Masterman
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Dissect the mystery of you?
Peel back the white skin
To more ivory bone.
Unearth the heart
Sealed in its placenta-
Does it live on love, or blood?
Uncover the eyeballs-
A too-vivid,
Unnatural shade, perhaps.
Where is the soul
Enlivening them?
The mechanical clock hands
Keep going round,
Though counting no more hours.
Nice hair, if you like it still;
Shining smugly.
It will last a hundred years.
But where is the real
Part of the man?
It is not here; it never was.
Bu şiiri puanla
Henüz puan verilmemiş