To Whoever Is Responsible

Bodies want what bodies want when bodies want it.
Not too long ago my stomach and intestines
both decided to egest abruptly everything they had
ingested through their two most efficacious

orifices, down and up. What were they to do
but (taking turns) erupt? Today my middle part –
supposed in cliché love songs to connect to “heart” –
euphemistically spiritualized by some as “second

chakra” – wants to shock a buck and pluck a duck
and otherwise do things that rhyme with schmuck.
What is it to do but run amok? I’m stuck in
the tautology of my biology. And I want an apology.


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