by William Dowd '06
We'd have to bore holes in it to know for sure
what goes on inside, and there's no one
prepared for that—all we have to go on
is a vague chatter in the chest or
a juddering in the organ's core
that tells us when we no longer want someone.
And yet they have the tools to crack our breastbone,
the surgical contraptions to trap us here
in life, the straps, the X-rays to explore,
the scissors to chop up the sign
reading: Do Not Resuscitate This Time,
and the proof to point to on the heart monitor,
the scrolling, sputtering Arabic lines
repeating you're fine, you're fine
and you're still mine.
William Dowd '06 is a Presidential Scholar majoring in English and philosophy.
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