Who knows what compelled me to answer my
father’s call. His tumor resurfacing like the past.
Ghosts solidifying. In many ways, there was an
us. Cells cycling into
sameness of our collarbones, soft lung linings,
in the rearview mirror / every mirror.
Any longer I evaded your calls, the doctor said,
the prognosis could have been worsened. This
uttered in fewer, kinder words. A gift you do not have.
Instead, you said nothing as I cradled the phone.
Shared understanding not spoken but
shimmering between static, peeling untold truths and steady
omissions taking shape. The way I assumed
my cells were as they readied themselves to invade
my body, make it home.
Here’s the church and here’s the steeple. The Deaf students have barricaded the door, hot-wired the school buses, moved them in front of the gates and let the air out of the tires. They’ve shut the campus down, and the police can’t do anything about it…
Part I. In 1911, J. F. Gudernatsch conducted an experiment on tadpoles, fed them pieces of organs—including thyroid, liver, adrenal gland, pituitary gland, muscle, thymus, testicle, or ovary—from horses, calves, cats, dogs, pigs, or rabbits. He described…