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Dear Drs. Fisher & Buigues
(St. Petersburg,2008 June 4)
Your fanged sterile gloves,
and snarling scrubs, tear into me
like the yellow teeth
of Novyy Port huskies.
(My leather epidermis might be
the only peace treaty
able to unite America and France,
miles from our homes.)
My sour flesh yearns for Yuribey,
for my mothers creamy milk,
for the Pleistocene days -
for the life you'll never see;
when mom inhaled&exhaled,
and blanketed me in her grey coat.
With every calculation and sketch,
you bludgeon with fluorescent light
whatever infinitesimal vestige of life,
still crawls through my molars.
10,000 years ago,
homo sapiens snuffed us out,
and wore my mother's fur.
But, today you've dissected mystery,
finding your numb heart inside me.
from, Lyuba
poem
by
Jacob Bearer
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