You know the taste of your own blood-
You remember you are made mortal-
You reminisce, ruminate in your recipe-
Notes you only know.................................
Those little letters in a vial;
coded coagulation's in combinations
of more than A O B and sometimes Y,
negatives and positives make a clot...........
...a conspiracy of hematology....................
the platelets are empty and white say
Editors of assemblage, connoisseurs of flow...
-Professors of Anatomy-
Who stick it to you, bleed you out, dry to the bone,
just as they always have, herding en mass-
Ewe, the sacrificial lamb.................................
Blood banks built on quicksand
distributing to the needy.
Even today, the cast off sprays the same;
luminol illuminating outcasts-
no doubt, not good enough
to save a life, strategic
in a pinch, a gash gushing................................
anemia, academia-
non-hemocyanin, un-blue-
contaminated, un-oxygenated, discarded
in the slush pile.................................................
There will always be more
able bodies, anti-bodies, veins to tap,
an aortic (Au(ction) gold mine..........................
We are blood letting machines-
We give and take life in sips-
We can taste (Fe(ar) our iron-
Will drained-
We work up to sap-
slowly................................................................
only to give it away for free
Keeping the leeches alive.
Most pungent when fresh, bread and newspapers drop in value proportional to their scent of newness.
Image By No 1 Army Film & Photographic Unit, Chetwyn (Sgt) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.
