The
Selling of a Heart: A Parallel Poem
You’ve
long since sold out
Both
your sweat and blood
Now
you try to sell your heart
Though
nobody wants it
Some
say the blood is not red enough
Others
find the chambers too narrow
Still
others think the coronary arteries
Stained
with too many feelings
You
peddle around, chanting aloud
From
street to street
With
your heart still fresh
Beating
like a frog in your hands
You
hope to sell it for a glass of water
Just
to cool down your burning voice
So
you do not have to sell your soul
Like
all other hawkers in the market
Well
satiated, but hardly heart-felt
