i made a thin incision beneath the diaphragm

of a flowering wound. & watch the constituents

 

dancing on the dissection table. in history, the

origin of a thing is the bedrock of knowledge. the

 

book of a boy’s becoming according to the gospel

of time read thus:

 

 & pain begat grief & grief

begat hurt & hurt begat closure & closure begat

 

a body weeding his mind’s tongue when he finds

melancholy hanging between his teeth. & a mother

 

feeding him scriptures for resuscitation. & a father

oiling him with antiseptics for discovery. a friend

 

grinding soothingness into his shoulders & a brain

adjusting to the physics of healing

 

& a physician prescribing

doses of outlets

         & a lover reopening scab,

& a body bathing in sun rays.

 

from here you see a tender bud

& a wound begat flowers.