jesus at the gastro- enterologist
By Joshua Garcia
why do you think you’re here? / he asks / and you tell him / your body is folding / over itself like a piece of paper / stuck / in the crack of a wall / stuffed perhaps / in the crack of a dam / to block the tears that have not yet come / you think your body is attacking you? / no / your body is speaking / to you and you don’t know / the language / you feel like someone else / has taken residence inside you / you would say you feel pregnant / but you know better / your body is not your own? / yes / you think he is hearing you now / and you lean closer / that he might better hear the body’s whispering / betrayals / do you exercise? / yes / but your body isn’t telling you to run / it’s asking you to listen / here / you reach / to bring his hand to your stomach / there is a desert inside you / feeding off the salt in itself to make more / sand / his hands stay folded / in his lap / the brain-gut connection / he begins / which means / it is all in your head / a prophet poet is never believed / in his hometown / there is a mother / of thousands inside you / you will need to learn to heal / yourself / to take the green / and fertile breath / blooming across your mouth / back into your lungs / you will need to learn / to kick the dust off your feet / you will need to kick until / you are the dust
Joshua Garcia lives and writes in Charleston, South Carolina, where he is pursuing an MFA in poetry at the College of Charleston and is an editorial assistant at Crazyhorse. His poetry has appeared or is forthcoming in Arts & Letters, Image, The Massachusetts Review, Poet Lore, New South, and elsewhere.