Jars

by Jane Downing 

The brain is not something to save
It’s hooked out through the nose
Thrown away
So why listen to it whispering
            why would he lie to you
            believe him             do
 
The guts, now there’s another thing
Eviscerate and scoop and jar
And put on a shelf for the ever-afterlife
Balance the jackal head on the stomach
Stopper up the gut’s shout
            it’s all wrong
           don’t believe him
Stick the beaky falcon on the jar with the intestines
            let them turn alone in queasy pain
Lungs that cannot breathe when they hear the lies
            stick them in an alabaster jar
            make a fat-bellied baboon of them
Stay lily-livered
Cut out that organ and give it a human face
            lidded with serene green-glazed eyes
 
Let this civil war end
Because the heart, the heart
            is left in the body even after death
There is no canopic jar to hold it
There is no hook to extrude the bloody mess
It is left in the chest
It is left gasping
            love, love, love

Jane Downing lives and writes on Wiradjuri land. Her poetry has appeared in journals around Australia including Meanjin, Cordite, Rabbit, Canberra Times, Bluepepper, Not Very Quiet, Social Alternatives, and Best Australian Poems (2004 & 2015). Her first collection, ‘When Figs Fly’ (Close-Up Books) was published in 2019. She can be found at janedowning.wordpress.com