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Daily Radiation

by Kim Roberts

The expensive machinery
burns a hole in my throat.
It whirrs overhead;
the click and buzz reverberate,
burning a hole in my throat
from seven different angles.
The click and buzz reverberate
inside the molded plastic mask
from seven different angles
as the machine sweeps left to right.
While inside the molded plastic mask,
immobile, eyes closed,
the machine sweeps left to right
and I lie on that narrow table.
Immobile, eyes closed,
burnt metal on my tongue.
While I lie on that narrow table
in a thin hospital gown,
burnt metal on my tongue,
so obedient inside 
the thin hospital gown.
The whirr's in my head.
So obedient inside
the expensive machinery.

Kim Roberts is the editor of the Beltway Poetry Quarterly (http://www.beltwaypoetry.com) and author of two books, The Wishbone Galaxy and most recently, The Kimnama (published in April 2007 by Vrzhu Press).