The Foreignness of Internal Affairs~ By Sandra Kolankiewicz

How I crave the destruction of free
radicals interfering with my every day, 

with the single and cohort experiences
that make up my average life, nitrous 

oxide exploding my brain cells,
ammonia dictating from the liver, 

kryptopyrroles building up, stealing all
my zinc, devouring my B6 and Omegas.  

Inexplicably, I eat potato chips and
squelch opportunity by interrupting you

or hearing something you cannot. I see
oxidants swarming, cutting the heads off

my antiquities, foes with no believable
leader to expose the better parts of their
 
natures, my flesh with its temporary
spirit clearly not their reason for 

being but excuse enough to camp out,
pretend to be independent from some
 
electron that is everywhere at once while
I, of course, am little but a host.  I can
 
take the modern dilemma except for the
elements that wear you thin and down, 

that only take and nothing give, getting
into everything, even your protected 

best, the lowest of them mute
scavengers, most likely the strongest of
 
all.  They fill the squares, shouting
democracy, divided into ancient 

factions, their different and opposing
slogans not explaining that some parts 

within a system are primary, some
secondary, others inconsequential like 

comparing a beating heart to the texture
of hair, though they are related.  They 

have studied Aristotle and focus not on
the hand nor the body but on the chance

he got even to speak while they were
there.  They have escaped their zeolite
 
walls, stolen all the oranges and grapes,
filled the jars of olive oil with bile.


Author Bio:
I write every morning at 5 a.m.