Operation Alphaman

It took a great effort and I had to bite hard on the stick
to push the subcostal muscles aside.
The skin had parted easily under my knife,
though keeping the blood at bay with no one to swab the wound
was difficult. This was remedied with a vacuum cleaner
tied up with wire and positioned at an angle
which worked sufficiently to keep the site clear.
When the outer layers of myself were peeled away,
the ligaments of my endeavour untied like ropes—
pectoralis major, pectoralis minor, the unhooking of the intercostals.
I did not have to work deep. Soon I saw bone.
I had preselected the fifth rib on the left.
I found one-armed sawing trying, no skill came forth
so I snapped the bone clean away from the sternum,
hoped there would be no splinters left in the surrounds
of my heart. Out it came, a wrenching crunch.
Tiring by now, I had to work quickly, re-laying the foundations
of myself, medial pectoral, serratus anterior,
folding the flap of skin back like unrolling fresh turf.
Everything patched up nicely, though my stitching was not neat
owing to the whisky, a bad case of the shakes
and the one-handed nature of the whole job.
After some sweet tea and biscuits I felt restored.
I rinsed away the blood, the loose bits of cartilage
and marvelled at what my mother had made—
at the construct that caged my heart.
I modified the rib into a section of spine, straightening it out in a vice,
easing, slowly turning, so as not to break the bone.
I added my foraged items: pig fat, the skin of a bird,
pelt from a deer, plaited garden twine and woven willow
in place of latissimus dorsi, sartorius, deltoid.
I used hair from my own head. Dark, thick.
I moulded his features, with stones for eyes, clay for a jaw,
sculpted a Roman nose, full mouth, strong brow.
It was delicate work requiring nail tools for precision.
He was ready. Tall, broad, there before me.
I named him Alphaman. I stood back and was pleased.

 

 

Vic Pickup is the author of Lost & Found, What colour is my brain? (Hedgehog Press) and The Omniscient Tooth Fairy (Indigo Dreams). She co-runs Reading’s Poets’ Café and Stanza groups.