The Illustrations Of Andreas Vesalius Poem by Richard Cole

He takes a breath
And peels the compliant
Skin from the back of his hand
To show us clearly
The elastic engine of ligaments
And bone inside, the soft
Rein of tendons
Working the fingers.

It’s high noon. He stands
Naked on a limestone ledge
Near Padua, assuming
A classic posture of renaissance
Sculpture, the broken viaducts
Stuttering across the valley
Behind him. We don’t understand,
So he peels the skin back
Farther, revealing
The deep sympathy of flexor
With extensor muscle, layers
Rendered in logical detail,
Intellect consuming the beautiful
Elements of the man by exact degrees,
As if blasted by surgeons.

So page by page we proceed
Without hesitation as the unbound
Body becomes articulate, skin
Billowing behind him like a tent.
“I am burning, ” I can hear him saying
Quietly like a lover, repeating the words.
“I am burning, ” and his body
Opens like a charm.