Attaining Eleven

Attaining Eleven short poem

Photo by AMagill

Desperate to be well
My guts were manufacturing
Barbed wire and I could feel
Every yank of the sibling strands
Grating of their braiding
Bite of each marital point
As the barbs were pinched
Onto the endless line.

Later, on a scale of one to ten,
I was asked to rate my pain
As the manufactory churned
And wondered, like trying to reach
A doorway by traveling half
The distance with each step,
If I ever got to ten
Then what would come after?

I was offered treatment first.
It’s the first shot I remember best –
I was warned of a pinch in my gut,
A flush In my neck, and like throwing
A switch the barbs fell away, silence
Coated my interior and all the clatter,
even the memory of it, died. I sighed
Having finally reached my destination.

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a poet from Seattle Washington USA. His poetry has appeared in print in publications such as Bellowing Ark, Point Nopoint, and most recently in Contraposition magazine. When not writing poetry he is a Human Resources professional, a repentant glutton, and a novelist specializing in the weird-fiction genre.
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