When they called it my baggage,
Opening it up to find out what is inside.
Seemed like a pretty good idea.
As I unzipped the battered luggage
That had been weighing me down.
Someone put on an Eels song.
“The Deconstruction has begun.”
A little too cheerily.
That sounds like I need a permit.
And a hard hat.
But I liked
Well, most of the time.
Become an excavation.
And the worksite was suddenly…
My deepest places.
I am a surgeon.
Cutting at my own innards.
I have this hope
That if I do something wrong.
The worst thing that will happen
Will be nose, lighting up red.
And a buzzing,
A God-awful buzzing.