Factory Infirmary
Based on an original photograph by Old Grumpy Mark Kyle
J. Lynne Price
A lighthearted song about sacrifice
is hummed over the intercom.
I watch an asbestos shingle falling and I
am breathing.
Strapped to this stretcher,
I watch
flecks of tracking
fuzz on the screen—
Tell me when to breathe.
Please speak to me calmly.
Not in that whisper,
more like a hypnotist. Please.
Pull out these repressed visions
of calves drowned in the creek
—their limp bodies balanced perfectly
on the prongs of a forklift.
There is no reckoning
with these memories now.
I am changing the shadows on the wall
with my remote control
while everything is getting patched up
on the other side of it.
J. Lynne Price is a mother living in York, PA, where she spends her free time listening to old music, watching art films, and writing weird poems. She holds a B.A. in creative writing from SUNY Purchase College and spent seven years as a professional marketing copywriter before becoming a managing editor for several national associations.


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