There’s a little pump that’s sorta
Attached to my aorta
It plays a major part
But I knew I needed somepin’
For my blood to keep on pumpin’
Like an artificial heart
I knew it was worth tryin’
Cos otherwise I’m dyin’
I needed to restart
Though my blood races quicker
There’s no ticking in my ticker
It’s an artificial heart
For life, I’d face the knife
I know just what to do
You want to try a little something new?
Without a beat? Still sweet!
I can keep the reaper waitin’
My blood is circulatin’
I’m feelin’ mighty smart
Though my pulse won’t be stirrin’
I will hear the gentle whirrin’
Of my artificial heart
Via NPR, a story to warm all three of my cuttlefish hearts--new directions and progress in plumbing! Circulatory plumbing, that is--a new artificial heart, using centrifugal pumps rather than attempting to replicate a beating heart. No pulse--complete flatline--but blood circulates, and I am assured that this is what blood is supposed to do.
As always, the comments are fun; already, the poor poets and songwriters are being pitied. So I thought I'd be the first to jump in and write a bit of non-beat poetry.
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3 comments:
I wonder if this reduces overall pumping wear and tear; if the beat has any side-benefit, and how arterial bleeding is altered.
The implications for feeling emotion certainly are weird.
Awesome verse, as always.
I wonder if they can build in an adrenalin detector so it knows to speed up when the bear is chasing you?
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