2025
POETRY OPEN
Honorable Mention
$25 Award
not quite 13 ways of thinking about my kidney transplant
by Christine Tierney
1.
on the bumpy helicopter ride
from colorado to boston
my soon-to-be-rehomed-kidney
kept obediently still
as her arteries yattered
2.
they say most soon-to-be-rehomed-kidneys
are carefully removed from their pulpy flesh
beds, and then placed in a cooler brimming with ice
3.
altruistic kidney donor and kidney recipient are one,
even if they never exchange a glance, share a meal,
pose together in a photo proudly shared on instagram,
or compare scars
4.
o mind, o mind, swarming with dread
out with the gabbling demons manned
along the arch of your bedframe,
and in with the hope of pinked and vigorous
kidneys—your darling saviors of despair
5.
when my soon-to-be-rehomed-kidney
is finally nestled inside of me
will all of my ancient feelings
of unworthiness disappear
6.
the morning of my kidney transplant
i found myself alone in the dusk plum light
of my kitchen staring out a scant frosted window.
this silence was new. this silence was the long-resisted
moment of facing all possibilities
7.
wheeling into the OR,
my drugged brain orbiting,
i imagined my soon-to-be-rehomed-kidney
as a gorgeous ruby anemone floating
in a pristine porcelain claw foot bathtub
filled with hand-blown glass bubbles
and swarovski diamonds
8.
known to faint at even the tiniest dribble
of blood, i trained myself to be tough
by poring over photographs of kidneys
and pretending they were buttery croissants
smothered in clotted cream and strawberry jam
9.
i let the image of my shivering
soon-to-be-rehomed-kidney
slip from my mind as a wispy
blood-specked tissue settled upon
the toe of the anesthesiologist’s
magenta clog
10.
i know the thick gunked pelt of both rational
and irrational fear, but i also know the deep love
of one man and yes, and yes, and yes, and yes,
this love will be heaped upon my pulsing-
filtering-soon-to-be-rehomed-kidney
every cloud in the sky
whooshed. shreds of winter
unclenched. light blinded. light
thundered. light sizzled.
my soon-to-be-rehomed-kidney
arrived unharmed, and i was finally
ready to be opened
______________________________
Hailing from Boston, Christine Tierney is a poet, flash fiction writer, digital collage artist, and professional life coach. She holds an MFA from the University of Southern Maine’s Stonecoast Writing Program and a BA in film from Emerson College. Her debut book, chicken+lowercase=fleur, was published by Lily Poetry Review Books. Her poetry has been nominated for Best of the Net, a Pushcart Prize, and the Best New Poets anthology. Her chapbook, make me unsick, was a finalist for the Gambling the Aisle Chapbook Contest. Her work has appeared in Gemini Magazine, Fourteen Hills, Poet Lore, The Tusculum Review, Sugar House Review, The Nervous Breakdown, and other publications.