Today's poem is by Michael Meyerhofer

Middle of The Story
       

Then God took me back to the hospital
where I was born and rigged it with dynamite,

said it was because everything needs
a proper exit that blooms like a flower gone

supernova. I said I didn't understand.
He rolled his eyes when I pulled the alarm

then pointed at the bricks and floorboards,
asked if I'd ever noticed how they interlace

like petrified fingers. But I couldn't stop
thinking about how strange it was

that I still didn't know what I looked like
from the inside: the contours of my kidneys,

all those basements and dirt floors
and the heart's lonely duplex

that no one ever seems to notice
until it gutters like a birthday candle.

Tweet
Copyright © 2023 Michael Meyerhofer All rights reserved
from The Greensboro Review
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission