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The heart is a pump
they told us at the school of medicine
back when I was young
it has four chambers
each with its own and separate task
to circulate the blood
all eight pints or more of viscous fluid
then there’s all the tubes
they said
they are containers too
it would all get very messy
if that red blood were not contained!

It’s only a pump they said
we boys and girls
for we were little more
eyed one another up
ignoring the lecturer
our glances boxing
with gentleness and skill
touch of a hand
pressure of foot
fluttering heartbeat
a smile a proposition
expecting the answer no
it was another world then
when I was young.

It’s only a pump they said
a set of boxes
keeping the body going
we knew they lied
and we contained the lie, professionally,
and held it close throughout our lives.

It’s only a pump the surgeon told me
before he opened its container
and cut respectfully
into the boxes of my heart
I have been glad of that
glad that in my six-hour sleeping death
my blood was still busily
going round and round
circulated by pumps outside the box
and the lung cavities were
filled and emptied by machines.

My frozen heart gave up its secrets
to the surgeon’s skill
then it sighed
and obediently returned to life
to everyone’s relief
it’s only a pump
the surgeon said
no trouble at all
we both knew he lied
and oh how grateful I am to him for that!
it was all put back into the box
sorted and tidied mended healed restored
after all it’s only a pump the heart

Except that out of it has poured
in all its redness
seventy years of dreams
exposure is complete
my heart is now open to all
and nothing will ever be the same
you can’t expect somehow to return
the sighs desires conspiracies and fires
of seventy years into a box
and hope they’ll circulate again discreetly
contained and hidden,
can you now?
the lie’s exposed
spilling its bright message everywhere…..

No! No! hold it in and spell it out
say after me –
the_ Heart_  is_ Only _ a _ Pump