Poem A Day # 5

This is the last medical poem. Honest. I’m moving on to cheerier stuff next.

Scar Tissue
I consider the staples
their angularity
their flat shine
the way they grip flesh
which rises like pursed lips
and will heal into a white rope

I feel it now
this piping on the cushion of my belly
the hardness of those staples
translated into this tough seam
my body rebuilding itself


About Jan Dean

This entry was posted in A poem a day for April and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Poem A Day # 5

  1. Oh, but the medical poems are wonderful—I could see a collection of them, telling the whole story with all of its digressions. I should have commented sooner. They’re very direct but still surprising and with lots of striking images.

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