Blood pours through a Blalock-Taussig in this riveting poem by the famous Ron Silliman.
I'd say it is a damn fine poem that orders numbers by their popes and cautions strangers to avoid banging too hard on coke machines lest they are being watched by the owl-eyed Poet.

Well done Mr. Silliman, well done.

http://www.latchkey.net/poets/ron_silliman/000993.html