LPiA-23 Nov. 28

[TranquillityBase]

Colloquy with My Kidneys

My body brews its own poison,
courtesy of my kidneys,
those favorite bits of Jack the Ripper
and Leopold Bloom,
just to give the names of two respectable admirers.

My kidneys, just as I’d forgotten their existence,
come to call.  I offer them water and placation.
They are inside me where I can’t see them, 
even behind my back.  My lungs I can image,
even my heart and liver, but my kidneys
two surprising jellyfish 
from out of my evolutionary past.

My blood is unclean, creatinine it’s called,
I pretend I can feel it in my veins.
My kidneys seem remarkably unconcerned.

I send them home, it’s like talking to the sky.

It’s a tender betrayal.  

“I send you half the Kidne I took from one women prasarved it for you tother piece I fried and ate it was very nise I may send you the bloody knif that took it out if you only wate a whil longer.”

“Mr Leopold Bloom ate with relish the inner organs of beasts and fowls. He liked thick giblet soup, nutty gizzards, a stuffed roast heart, liverslices fried with crustcrumbs, fried hencods' roes. Most of all he liked grilled mutton kidneys which gave to his palate a fine tang of faintly scented urine.”