Body Parts

the project assigned to me is
to pixelize the placenta
the fetal earth
delivered post-birth
viscous thick
and the decisive confusion of whoever figured
how to dispose of it properly

then I’m going to work
on digitizing the grease
under Grandpa’s chewed fingernails
the shortness of breath
the boy’s blood-drain fear of climbing
the makeshift stairs of the garage
off the gravel alley
to the second floor
(where the vermin fled and bred)
to adjust three thick suspended chains
for lifting the old motor
from the rusty blue car
all the dust-caked tubes
and disconnected wires
the spit of cursing
how we learned to laugh
in the smell of the warming wood stove
warmer than the womb
as warm as the workshop inside
outside, the bone-bracing chaos of winter

the confusion of the boy
the confidence of the elder
and how it was decided—
more by body than brain—
to replace one broken hand-built engine
with another unbroken,
sturdy as Grandpa’s hands,
heart sturdier than these ciphers,
the deformed fruit of a sterile silicon board
under an endless series of vicious viral threats