Poetry
Bionic Man
She looked at you like you’d won the stupid contest…
You don’t know how good you had it
in that boundless nettle.
Scampering for the soccer ball like
a soldier, intending to flatter Astrid Ericson.
Climbing back over the wall,
the rashes were already propping
up like business on your
freshly haired legs.
Intriguing. You pretended to die
as she looked at you like you’d won
the stupid contest.
Cue the water and baking soda.
Five years into the future, you went
for a monster rebound.
A tell tale sound and you knew
your pinkie was fractured, sans the x-Ray.
Your students demanded to know
the meaning of the blue-tapped-splint
making a bionic man
out of your hand.
You told them what they needed
to hear, and not a whisper more.
You didn’t do it, this time
it was circumstance.
©Daniel, 2024
I recently published a poetry chapbook with Bottlecap Press! You can check it out below:
