Wednesday, June 23, 2021


 Needle Biopsy

It takes one needle stick

A couple millimeters

Just to the right

To lash an artery,

Puncture a child’s lung.

So tempting to wander off the path

Toward that forest of surly pines

Hundreds of years imbibing

From a surging river of blood

Leaching into the soil.

Current is too quick to clot.

And all you can do is pack and pack and pack

As much pressure as it takes

To plug an empty space

Flooding like water into the cabin

Of a rapidly sinking yacht.

One match 


Near a refinery

One prion clinging 

To a cutlet of beef

An uncovered cough,

That elicits a missed glance.

A stone dropped plop

Into a pond from a bridge

Ripples into tsunami

Butterfly effects 

One thing into the next 

The black ice

On the downslope

Of the hill you've

Already rolled down



The way.

I can't help but slip.

It’s not a pin prick,

Scarlet proof of life,

That you suck to stanch

It’s an impalement ,

Razor thin sharp

And just as bitter

To taste. 

It won’t clot

Until I press myself

Hard against

Lacerated flesh

And never let you go 


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