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the weight of it

the twist of the arm
the braking of ones bones
the ripping of flesh  as you
tear away the barbed wire
the crushing of ribs  as you breath
the collapse of the skeleton
no longer has strings
 
how much does it take to crush you?
 
i squirm under the weight
i will not be crushed
i shall pick up my shattered bones
and throw them in the cauldron
add some gelatin to the stew
and make them harder  –still
maybe a little pink will do
 
a lot or a little?  
 
will you shrill?
as i pick up my eyes from off the floor
to keep them from going through that door
falling in the hole (whole?)
no two strikes, your out
waiting the next blow
as i onward try to go

Other works by Patricia May Neiderer ...



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