there
flows
nothing
natural
swirling up to a
colonoscopy where i fill
a plastic jug with water dissolving strange powders
add synthetic lemon flavor, turn from grains, fish, and fruit to flush out my familiar
gut fauna for a sanitary stream of cold chemicals turning my intestines
into an absurdly lucid theater for a
stainless steel plastic camera
to sleuth my cells don't
conspire to
murder
their
god