by Margaret Stevens

Ghastly and gentle graveyard hymns
&&Beneath barren lullabies.
Listen closely:
&&&&Silver&&&&&&&&& sorrows in tomorrow’s
&&&&&&&&waiting rooms &&&&& &
Here is yesterday’s doctor,
&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&He who performed
the radical surgery
Behold&&&&&&&&& the
&&&&&&&&Gauze &&&&&pads the God’s prongs.
Behold & their austere nature,
Their && unflinching && employment,
&&&&&&&&used to pry out the corroded heart.
Never to be named,
Its &&&&&fingers webbed&&&&& its legs snared—
&&&&&&&&twisted in ticker tape
&&&&&&&&basted in brown blood.
Fast & still — born & dead yet.
Listen to the extraction, &&&an abstraction,
Never once to &&&gag on &&&consciousness
Artist: Amy Meiter 
Margaret Stevens is from Cazenovia, New York. After receiving her B.A. in Psychology from Bard College, she moved to New York City. She works in marketing in the fashion and beauty industry but she’s a poet at heart. She is delighted by folk music, street photography, and Italian greyhounds.