Poem | Okinawa Aquarium

Framed & mounted on the wall, a dolphin’s stomach, splayed:
inside, plastic bags, bottle caps, condoms, broken
coke bottles, tampons, lighters, dentures, toys and bubble
wands. If God cut me open with a scalpel, what

would He find inside me? My beached body:
heavy with a human gospel. Removing each piece from me,
God would say: I gave you so many trees to eat from.
I might say: I felt so full—even briefly, I thought I was really filled.

Published in the February 10, 2017 issue: 
Tags

Meg Eden’s work has been published in various magazines, including Rattle, Drunken Boat, Poet Lore, and Gargoyle. She teaches at the University of Maryland and is the author of four poetry chapbooks. Her novel Post-High School Reality Quest will be published in June by California Coldblood, an imprint of Rare Bird Books. Check out her work at: www.megedenbooks.com.

Also by this author
‘Easter Dinosaur Poem’

Please email comments to letters@commonwealmagazine.org and join the conversation on our Facebook page.

Must Reads

Politics
Religion
Culture