The Transplant Relationship

driven from the boonies, from the sticks, from the countryside & into the heart of the cities where the pulse thumps against the brain soothing the heart simultaneously with the guaranteed promise of an infinite energy & an infinite wealth of interesting things to sink one’s teeth into, the mouse takes off their overalls, throwing on the noir garb to blend in with those contentedly covered in pollution--- and the country mouse, s/he does her/best to breathe above the water looking for a job without city experience flexing irrelevant college degrees in the face of those who have seen & heard it all & when finally coming upon something that will barely pay anything, of which s/he is highly underqualified, s/he bows to the overwhelming will of the behemoth & lives to reap the benefits of being at the center of the heartbeat for one more minute--- but the transplant, s/he grows weary, because the living costs go up but no one ever offers more to her/him & as new blood from all over the world pumps in, s/he begins to forget why s/he came here in the first place, doing all that s/he can to stay breathing above the water, getting a second job to supplement the worthless first one & living hand to mouth, hand to mouth, hand to mouth, while the college loans come knocking at the door (and they don’t give a *****how hip ya think ya are) & s/he ain’t getting any younger--- the water begins to flood in the mouth as the arms begin to flail, gasping ensues, the water gets into the lungs & the city laughs in the face of the little mouse on her/his last leg, saying, “this place ain’t big enough for the both of us.”