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).