Needles to Say
What butterflies. Do you mean
this pincushion. In my throat.
Can the voice slither between
the spikes of a burr, float
through half-chewed pine
or pinprick needle eyes.
Well, can you hear me fine.
Hand me that First Prize
for Oral and Dental Fortitude.
I’d like to thank the phonograph,
its single fang that protrudes
to speak on the vinyl’s behalf.
Good poem ! I truly Love your poem.Go ahead .sell my house
ReplyDeleteOoh...I was trying to imagine if I had ever been in that situation and thankfully I could not recall though I am sure I have experienced it...missed u for sure! : )
ReplyDeleteBeautiful, as usual. I love the single fang. And yes, needles to say. I have felt those needles for sure.
ReplyDeleteOh, I love this. I love the title. I love it all.
ReplyDeleteWow. Friggin' clever.
ReplyDeleteWonderful, Hannah.
ReplyDeleteThe poem fits beautifully with the TweetSpeakPoetry post today on the voice chapter in Rumors of Water.
I'm going to remember "this pin cushion in my throat" the next time my throat is scratchy :).
ReplyDelete