Cardiology

By Leila Jackson

Let us begin, first, with the heart–a monster

of a thing. An elephant’s is the size

of a dog. A blue whale’s the size of a cow. A cow’s

the size of a human head–


too fast. We were on dogs. It’s a pretty

flimsy thing. I have never seen a dog bleed,

you know. I’ve seen them dead though. Swollen

and still twitching, as though running in their sleep.


They’ve changed a lot but still grieve like wolves,

keen and howl until they’re told

to knock it off. Now, whales–

you could curl up inside their left ventricles


and feel the beating if you didn’t mind

the blood. You could read a book in there. Licking

the walls for water while surrounded in it,

as a man pleads for air


while he is flying. It’s a curious thing. This bottomless

craving of excess. I only understand

when they show us those pictures of the cows all pressed together

in the factories as though laminated,


simple and good, and we, looking at them, always have a momentary

flash of hatred for ourselves accompanied by

a strong urge to go vegan. That could be

my head in there, we think, my head,


and what use have I for this head? You probably knew

that a human heart is the size of both our fists held together

tight, like fists. And that even when we go to sleep

this monster never stops gearing up


for a fight. But did you know that it can lose,

just like any animal, just like everyone else, except when it does

we must go down silent. It is a simple thing: knees first, then head.

The elephants so polite as to reach out and touch us


where vein meets artery, turn us facing up,

listen kindly to the beating.

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