p o e m   

j o h n  m c k e r n a n

The heart began wondering what it was made of.

But only after looking closely at the blue prints for
a mansion and a machine gun.

He certainly liked the paint factory of Oxygen,
particularly its inner chambers, turning the blue blood red.

The heart watched in horror as the child ate a plate
of carrots peas strawberries Oreos and drank a glass of milk.

“Am I a liquid or a solid?” the heart asked. “Or a




© 2003 John McKernan



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