East side under the copters

My heart does not beat properly
your arm lays over my chest
and the helicopters are flying
over the neighborhood tonight
last time they did they bathed
midnight with giant pearls of light
searching for three robbers
the police had assault rifles
in their hands and crept up
to the back of our neighbor’s house
yelling their boot heavy presence
the searching of yards lasted
until 3 in the morning we watched
through the blinds stayed awake
sat in the living room furniture
waiting for the grass to grow quiet
under the blue hands of the moon
there are small grey goats
calves with shining white hairs
sitting in my body weighing
down on my ribs chewing
aimlessly lazily without verdict
my heartbeat tends to follow
the motions in their mouths
the movement of their hooves
it scares my wife sometimes
that she will be touching me
and my heart will not beat
as a proper heart does
instead will jerk and pump
manic and then not at all
it scares me too these animals
holding races in my small chest
I fear they will be the death of me
my small small quivering chest
the helicopters are gone now
my wife asleep close to me
my heart a barrel of fish lifting
their weight slamming to one end
and then thump to the other
she turns like the fruit in my body
heavy on the floor soft on the edges
trying its best to move over the wood

—ANIS MOJGANI