exam

i take my pomegranate 
to the doctor. the doctor has a waiting room
full of people holding fruit in their hands.
a banana & a mango & even a handful 
of kiwis. we're all starting to rot & the flies come
like rubberneckers. i shoo them away.
i consider what the internet told me to do.
"squeeze as hard as you can." nothing
left to do but find the nectar.
i could sit in my bathtub to do it. i wouldn't
have to tell anyone, just wash well enough
to get the stains out.
i turn the fruit over in my hands,
searching for the legs. search for the mouth.
i have lost all my teeth more than once.
planted grass seeds in the holes & waited
for them to return. i am not convinced
the doctor has ever seen a pomegranate before.
i might have to show her the trick 
to opening them. i might have to hold it up
& say, "did you know they think eve actually
ate a pomegranate & not an apple in the garden
of eden?" she might smile or she might
write something in the mythical chart 
i have never seen. i like to imagine it
as a poem about myself. i watch someone else
in the waiting room give up. peels the banana
& weeps as she consumes it. 
we avert our eyes. i don't know
if she wants to be watched. finally,
they take me back & i regret coming.
i blurt out to the nurse as she weighs
my fruit, "i have been devoured
with a spoon." she laughs & says,
"you & everyone else." i feel sick. the pairing knife.
she sits with me. she says,
"we will eat it together then." the door is
far away. the neon lights say, "good luck."
my fingers red. my palm red. the pith 
like wadded up wedding dresses.
the nurse shakes her head to say,
"you have nothing at all to worry about."
i finish & she add, "we'll call you 
with the results if there is something
you need to know." weeks pass.
the phone doesn't ring.