MRI

by Carol Hamilton

He said it was like
a trial run for the crematorium,
his Bach–filled slide
into the tunnel of magnets
and clunks and thumps
and thoughts
of a metal tombscape
I recited memorized poetry
and enjoyed the rest
The tube employs many
terrifies a few
saves some loses some
chugs in and out day by day
another phase in time
so short set in space
and so so long
for us here in Whoville
as we are ordered and try hard
to stay still for just a little while