Echocardiogram 
    How does, how does, how does it work
    so, little valve stretching messily open, as wide as possible,
    all directions at once, sucking air, sucking blood, sucking
                              air-in-blood
    how? On the screen I see the part of me that always
                              loves my life, never tires
    of what it takes, this in-and-out, this open-and-shut
                              in the dark chest of me,
    tireless, without muscle or bone, all flex and flux and blind
    will, little mouth widening, opening and opening and,
                              then snapping
    shut, shuddering anemone entirely of darkness, sea creature
    of the spangled and sparkling sea, down, down where light
                              cannot reach.
    When the technician stoops, flips a switch, the most
                              unpopular kid in the class
    stands offstage with a metal sheet, shaking it while Lear raves. So
    this is the house where love lives, a tin shed in a windstorm, tin
    shed at the sea's edge, the land's edge,
    waters wild and steady, wild and steady, wild.

                          Suzanne Cleary