The Teraphim Instruct Their Surgeon
Pay attention to the grain.
A neighborhood grows to answer itself
in intersections: the arm joins the shoulder
to gain access to the leg, the ankle learns
to pivot so its toes can test water.
Study how the streets divide
and reunite, how a dead end fills
with garbage like a tub, unattended, the cold tap
wide open. Then you’ll know where to cut
and how to avoid a scar. You’ll know
when a graft is right for the lot between
the bakery and the cleaners. Later, after
the rivulets of brick dust are washed away,
after traffic resumes its scour, the sutures
in the mortar will dissolve.
