Random Thoughts 

While Having an 

Echocardiogram

This world’s a hospital

and the sick

are everywhere.

This hospital is

a series of

Chinese boxes

where our bodies

are the last

of the lids

to be

opened.

Be patient

with me.

I am made

of limbs

from the

tree of life.

See, 

I’ve got 

a knot

for a heart;

a scarecrow

with a 

mind

of mulch

and other

remembered

things.

Look

how I 

go about

like some

raggedy God

dragging

all that 

I am made of

behind me.

It will

take a tear

to make

me new. 

Today

the technician’s

hands are gloved

in latex

to contain

any trace

of sensuality.

For myself,

I use

my clothes

for a condom. 

Heaven forbid

I should

unsheathe

my poetry

in so much

artificial

light.

I strip

anyway

as instructed

and lay

on a bed

of crinkling

rice paper,

bare skin

beneath a

borrowed

gown

whose thread-

count only 

chaffs.

Now lie on

your side

and put 

your arm

behind

your head.

You instruct

and I

assume a

rather

cheesecake

pose, 

willing to vamp

for the polite

pornographer.

You who

mustn’t know 

I keep a stone

in my pocket

to keep myself

well.

Nothing

dissolves 

my sorrows

like a pebble.

Above, the

florescents

hum like

a geiger

while I lay

at the mercy

of instruments

designed to

remind me

I am not

made of 

wood.

Okay,

take a breath.

Hold it.

Hold it.

Hold it.

Now, release.

What if 

I were to

shut my eyes

and the world 

drop suddenly

dead?

Or is that

just an

unthinkable

secret

alive and well

inside my head?

Peter Valentyne

November 15th, 2020