The Parts Missing from My Body, on Getting a Physical at the Hospital, a Poem

Translated…

After the accumulations of an entire night

This morning, I had, placed the remains of me

Bit by bit (all of those, words in my sleep)

Saved them all, inside the tubes used to, collect the blood from my own defecations

Pushing my body out

From the wardrobe change room

To a pale shade of blue

But I’m unwilling

In becoming, a huge butterfly, with the blood being drawn from it

Moving the paperclips, on that questionnaire that they’d, handed to me

And I still wasn’t able to manage this extra serving of magic

The empty-stomached specimen (all of the greats)

Placed inside the livers, the gall bladders and the kidneys

Which made them all, lively again

and this, is what that looks like…

I’d also needed to, find my place of rest, on that silvery apple

So, the moment that the doctor turns on the computer

The head shots become, nothing more than a skull

Looking straight at me, hehe

The forms underneath were filled out with an unfamiliar name, as well as, the date of birth

Turns out, that I’m made up of, so many complex symbols

That I’m the universe

With the planets, circling around me

That everything became, dizzy

And there’s something extra added on to my height

There are, two extra layers of my waist line, as well as the measurements for my buttocks

And, every time, I’d always, managed, to catch the marchers

Ushering in with the chrysanthemums silently

Walked through the pulseless

Areas of behind the buttocks

and here’s the surgeon…

But not seeing, that I’m already, too ill

My vision and my ability to tell the various colors only works with animals

While everything inanimate is still and colorless

The blurred out view of the electrocardiogram, the mirages that it’d shown

I can only, drink some milk before I’m able to, use my lungs again

And, t here’s still some energies that remained that breathed hot air into the nuclear plants

But, the ears, nose, and throat are, the clogged up tunnels

(With all the experts stuck inside), the mucus can’t manage to escape

I’d flapped the fragile wings of my own bones

As if, waving my hand had become, the final way to show that I’m still alive

It’s so beautiful (how those poets)

Managed to, wave away, one right after the next, white houses

And, the parts of my body had, gotten lost

When I get my internal exams

I can’t hear the secret words

That the doctors had, left behind

And so, this, would be how someone who’s “trapped” inside of an ailing body experiences the world all around, with the machines, beeping right next to the body, consciously, the person knows that something IS going on, but, because the mind is, completely, detached from the body, there’s nothing that the mind can do, to make the body respond, and that, is just, what the final stage of someone’s life looks like, it’s truly, very sad, if you ask me…