It started with my foreskin which
must have been a terrible embarrassment
whisked away as soon as I
was evicted from the womb
my dentist took a stern dislike
to my wisdom teeth and tore them
from my bleeding jaws no great loss
The gall bladder, turned traitor –
out it came, lumpy with stones
oozing green-black like some alien
B-Movie parasite, low-budget-laughable
A few teeth, gall bladder, four
grandparents, a father, a friend or two
we shed piece after piece
until memory becomes mist
wander unfamiliar chambers
searching for things on the tips
of our tongues, no longer
possessing names or shapes
O, take my organs but don’t let me lose
even the names of school bullies
who made my life a misery or that
first innocent kiss beside a swimming
pool in some long-forgotten back yard
her sun-lit body glistening with droplets
I not yet knowing shame or failure only
the love of my body and all that came with it.
Keith Welch lives in Bloomington, Indiana where he works at the Indiana University Herman B Wells library. He has poems published in The Tipton Poetry Journal, Writers Resist, Dime Show Review, and Literary Orphans, among others. He enjoys making connections with other poets and invites everyone to follow him on Twitter at @Outraged_Poet. His website is https://librarymole.wixsite.
–Art by Steven Gray
