Heart

I put my heart in a blender.

I fantasized about watching it shred,
And imagined the sight,
A brilliant red.

I thought better of that idea
And threw it on the street,
Where my feet kicked it about 
Like discarded red meat.

There my heart collected dirt. 
So I rolled it up in my shirt.

I decided a black heart wouldn't do
So I took it to a river 
For a good wash and shampoo.

The heart soon found its rightful colour.
After a thorough scrubbing it shone in the sun of summer.

But a newly-soaked heart is a slippery thing, 
And I soon saw it jump from my grasp 
To float with the river's current;
To escape its oppressor at last.

Now dying without my pump 
I went in search of that goddamn lump.

I scoured every heartless hole,
Every filthy corner, beneath every sole;
Before finding the stubborn organ in a muddy little puddle, 
Wallowing beneath the water's surface,
Begging to renew its natural purpose.

Afraid to see my heart escape once more, I moved it to a chest;
Secured the lock, tossed the key, and left it there to rest.

In my chest it shall remain, I hope,
Pumping blood to my peculiar brain.