Jellyfish

Jellyfish

Crystal blue, beautiful entrails
tangling themselves into the
fibers of my muscles
a bloom of jellyfish swimming through my over-trodden veins.
It’s a cool sensation—their syrupy liqueur
shooting through the toothpicks in my spine.

I don’t get it.

I’ve been skewered,
and sprawled out like a taxidermied pig,
pins stuck through every
centimeter of jelly. Dissection?
Or a minstrel show?

Wandering eyes come and go
gawking at me. Pity, disgust,
heat-seeking needles prodding at my insides
trying to straighten out something
that I didn’t want straightening in the first place.