Washing My Father after Cardiac Surgery, and: Homeland Security
Rent from DeepDyve- Washing My Father after Cardiac Surgery, and: Homeland Security
Washing My Father after Cardiac Surgery
He died on the tableand felt himself floatabove the scene,but the surgeonwas old-school,took the heartin his ungloved fistand squeezed it backto life as if he werejuicing a red fruit.
He died on the table:it sounds so domestic.Think of damaskand porcelain, thinkof my father's raw heartpainted into a still life,accompanied by silvercandlesticks andlimp dead pheasant.
The doctor stitchedhis soul back to his bodyand like a good seamstressfinished with a sturdytwo-hand square knot.Now I bathe him gently, [End Page 115] soaping his shouldersand neck, my wet handson his threadbare skin.
Homeland Security
First, I unscrewed my penis and laid iton the conveyor belt. Unsure whethermy balls held three ounces of fluidor less, I dropped them into a Ziploc bagalongside my bladder and salivary glands.Into the dog dish with my keys, tenfingernails, a pile of teeth, two paperclips,and a few stray coins. They made metake off my feet to send through x-ray;afterward I fumbled to reattach themwhile trying not to misplace my ticket.My eyes were cracking jokes, so twobadged men pulled them aside."Can't you read the signs?" one growled.The other fired up the electron microscopeto see if my cells—erythrocytes, epithelials,fibroblasts—were waving the anarchy flagor flipping them the bird. Endorphinswere a no-go, so the guard helped mepry loose my hypothalamus. Conveniently,they provided an envelope to mail itsafely back to Wichita. I showed themmy kidneys. I showed them my spleen.I poured out my bile and let them friskmy ticking heart. I unhinged my faceand grimaced while they waved a wandup and down my spine to make sureit was true bone and not a long white fuse. [End Page 116]
Christopher Todd Anderson is Associate Professor of English at Pittsburg State University in Kansas, where he teaches courses in American literature, poetry, environmental literature and film, and popular culture. Anderson's poems have appeared in numerous national literary magazines, including River Styx, Crab Orchard Review, Wisconsin Review, Tar River Poetry, Chicago Quarterly Review, and Ellipsis, among others. A 2018 Pushcart Prize recipient for poetry, Anderson has also published scholarly articles on images of garbage and waste in American poetry and on the film WALL-E.
