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.
