SIXTEEN LIPOMAS HAD BEEN EXCISED

So I was in pain.  Wore the crown
In a kingdom of coprolalia.  My titulature:
Bryan, by the Grace of God, in a lot of pain.
 
My body looked as if Frankenstein’s Monster
Had tried to make a monster out of Dr. Frankenstein.
 
In an effort to understand my pain,
I imagine myself anesthetized on the operating table,
Which requires a standing-me or floating-me
To be near my poor body, which lies supine—
The body that is rolled on its side, or held
Spread-eagle by giggling nurses, while the surgeon
Opens fish mouths on white flesh.
 
That’s a nice fucking cut, I imagine saying
To my anesthetized body with a wince of pain
And with the air of a time traveler witnessing
His past-self injured in a skateboarding accident.
 
I’ll admit this mental odyssey of mine
Is like teaching ballet to a zombie—
 
But who gives a shit?  For when my flesh is cut,
Each lipoma comes out like a lipoma, which means
It’s not like a pearl taken from an oyster.
Oh!  But the open wound is like a half-eaten cherry,
The white pit having been removed!

PARODY OF THE LANGUAGE POETS

vagina            vagina            vagina            vagina
vagina            vagina            penis              vagina
vagina            penis              vagina             vagina
penis              vagina            vagina            vagina
 
rubber              wand               for                wicker-basket