White-gowned seraph, is Paradise through those double doors White-gowned seraph, is Paradise through those double doors, the ones smeared with fingerprints? I begin to dress in lead, but an x-ray will only prove the obvious: you need machines, not me, if you wish to live without organs. But don’t you think there’s something intimate about an abandoned examination room? I wheel you inside, grab my reflex mallet. First, I tap each of your 206 bones. Three times. Muhammad claimed that adults have 360 joints. Don’t say a word while I reaffirm my faith. When I’ve finished, you’ll be a bruised monument, a hypochondriac’s guide on how to take oneself apart piece by piece.
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© 2007 prickofthespindle.com |
Jason Fraley works at an investment firm in West Virginia. His work has appeared or is forthcoming in Forklift Ohio, 42opus, The Hat, Pebble Lake Review, Caketrain, and No Tell Motel. |