The polar bear's white hours
By the small genetic pool
Contemplating his furred reflection
And the mass of life reproducing below.

With patient claws he preens and cleans
Those that float up dead
Another cold experiment
That failed to take a satisfying breath

At the bottom of the pool
They fold their hands and pray
Up through the water
And beg to be allowed to survive
Ask the Great Bear's eyes.

The Polar Bear's blank hours
White in the museum hall
Another display case, another white card
Explaining how it all works

His paw takes my open hand
And we fly to the frozen north
Where his children gash themselves on soft drink glass
He tears out my liver and we gawp at it's size.

He takes out my kidney and we know soon I will feint
Removes the stomach and pancreas
Large intestine too
He climbs inside the cavity this evisceration has caused
And asks to be sewn up inside
I stitch his mass into me and sigh

The Polar Bear's white hours
By the small genetic pool
Contemplating his furred reflection
Are over
And I am warm.