Fall 1992 • Vol. XIV No. 4 PoetryOctober 1, 1992 |

A Medical Student Learns Love and Death

The scalpel finds the heart. The heart is still. The way it rests, suspended in his chest, It seems a fruit unharvested, its flesh Inedible but oddly tempting—swelled A size I never will forget. My sleeves Rolled up, I touch, I trace an artery—A tortuous, blockaded road—and free The muscle from connective tissue sheaths An unforgotten lover left in place. My working hands become the fluttering He must have felt; the lost anatomy Of his emotions, gardens left in haste. Past human bodies, no one has evolved. With these deflated lungs, he's penitent, And wants to say how love will never end. I cut, and make from him the grave I rob.

Already have an account? Login

Join KR for even more to read.

Register for a free account to read five free pieces a month from our current issue and digital archive.
Register for Free and Read This Piece



Or become a subscriber today and get complete, immediate access to our digital archives at every subscription level.

Read More

Poem for Ebola

By Rafael Campo

The scalpel finds the heart. The heart is still. The way it rests, suspended in his chest, It seems a fruit unharvested, its flesh Inedible but oddly tempting—swelled A size […]

Subscribe

Your free registration with Kenyon review incudes access to exclusive content, early access to program registration, and more.

Donate

With your support, we’ll continue 
to cultivate talent and publish extraordinary literature from diverse voices around the world.