Saturday, November 10, 2007

Doctor

This time it is real.

A sickness
contained within
the tupperware
of the lungs
and the ribs.

I am milking
I am mating
I am with the pack of wolves ripping apart
the remains of an elk
left splintered
in sinking soil.

I am awake. I see
the gloved hands
and where they go
behind the
cecum. The beginning
of all the
travels
of all the leftover
meats.
Blood on
my incisors
or what is left
from grinding.

The calm
they try to pump
me through. Get her
in,
get her full
of fluids. She
will be
the same
tomorrow.

4 comments:

E-40 said...

THIS ONE IS NASTY.

traffic jam said...

this is beautiful.

can you recommend some poets you're reading?

Kelly said...

im reading jorie graham right now.
i was reading some bishop.
but yeah, jorie graham if you haven't read her. and ive just been reading from our anthology of modern and post modern literature.

Nikkita said...

you should update every day. and i should check my comments moer often and also update more.