i’m about to wolf down this pig brain
bathed in broth, laureled by mugwort
vulnerable and votive
back in home country, i’m a small god again
look down
to your offerings, elderly gods
did you know
the top half of the brain is a heart-shaped island
it’s nothing short of divine:
to lodge spoon into creases
and scoop out rich clouds
—what other foreign gods have trampled on,
i can put in my mouth
but only half of it lest i choke
i take the left
H take the right
(first son of first son, he’s a medium god)
swirling tongues around words
of our fathers:
only the pig-brained
crave bodies of the same organs
brain is not the only thing i lack
you see, i didn’t come out
of my mother full-fleshed-and-organed:
i grew to crunch eyeballs of fish
suck marrow out of bones
beat a dozen cousins in a game of speed
to tear open testes of the proudest
cock in the flock
whatever i lack, there’s an offal for that
swallowing panacea down one orifice
myopia, anemia, girlia — all can be fixed
i am human
more each time
those who name us barbaric
those whose bellies are always warm
with other bellies
have never known
the intimacy of what’s inside