The Body Vacant Poem by Stan Petrovich

All those eyes upon me:
Now liver, now heart, now nerves.
The chemical balances are tenuous;
I have suffered hyponatremia and hypokalemia,
But whose pair of eyes knows that?
The microorganisms that abound in space and place
Wait and watch for the opportunistic jig
That will dance them through the skin,
Wrecking the bloodflow and balances,
Growing into the moistures of sickness.
We can all fight them with the antibiotic, antifungals,
Antiviruses, biologics;
But in the end the game is over before it begins,
Like all games,
And the loser is a predetermined loser.
It is you.