Those Aren't Your Guts

Those aren't your guts on the table
that's your lunch
that's not your FBI file
that's The Daily News
you're not chained to a pole in the public square
you're at a picnic table
there's nothing more required here
not even you

and the birds aren't circling in the sky
to pick your bones in case you die
they're up there just because they can fly

and your hives are only temporary
and your friends are not imaginary
and you can't remember what it was
that bothers you the way it does

that's not a war correspondent with a video cam
it's your brother-in-law in khaki shorts
that's not a terrorist with a firebomb
it's your sister at the charcoal grill


that's not the Blessed Virgin you're talking to
that's your mother
that's not the Lamb of God on the barbecue
and neither are you

and the birds aren't circling in the sky
to pick your bones in case you die
they're up there just because they can fly

and your hives are only temporary
and your friends are not imaginary
and you can't remember what it was
that bothers you the way it does
those aren't your guts on the table
your guts on the table
that's your lunch


© Mark Donato