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THE CASTING by Linda Blaskey

depoetry
September 14, 2015

 

Twined in her downy hair,
a hand big and dark as a
first baseman's mitt holds
her aloft, body weight
pulling the dislocated spine
into alignment. They have
wrapped her round and round
and painted her with plaster
of Paris from the base of her
skull to the crown of her pubus.
Her toddler's feet minnow about
above the stainless steel table,
seeking purchase.

No word yet for panic,
for suffocation -
that will come later
when as an adult she
rasps awake in the night,
the white of her blue eyes
brighter than misshapen bone.

But for now, beads of sweat boil
up on the arm holding her as she
waits for the white correction
to dry hard as a mollusk's shell.

 

Find more of Linda Blaskey's poetry at DePoetry.com.