A Poem for Midsemester 2: Muscles

Muscles stand out, rising like steel cords from my neck

And arms

And fists

Steel cords shining metal red in the daylight

I pound them down with iron hammers, down underneath the skin, raising colors like a bruised wine-grape or plum, soft make them soft,

And yet they refuse to lie down, standing proud and arrogant, casting dark shadows on my skin, the steel rods furrowing deep into my flesh, claws in skin and then bone, pulled taut,

Claws into my brain,

Meds to make me forget

Meds to make me sleep

Chemical warfare on the muscles

When battering will not do.


About lizardqueen

If single-mothering were a paid job, I'd be rich. However, it doesn't, so I write (which doesn't pay the bills) and teach (which does). I'm overly-educated in the liberal arts, but that doesn't hinder my ability to be pragmatic and realistic. YAY.
This entry was posted in AVOCATIONS, Creative Writing, The Writing Life. Bookmark the permalink.

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