Entry

one time at the doctor
my nose gets fucked
with a giant black
17 inch dildo
thin, like a worm’s dick
a dribble of lube
sliming down my chin
it slides up my nostril
and down my throat,
like a wiggling
room temperature
sanuki udon noodle

every now and then
the guy holding it, with
rubber gloves
twists it back and forth
like a kid suckin
a christmas candy cane,
finger around the handle
i feel like a bathroom drain
being roto-rooted

i told him about my problems

before my throat was full

about how my ear had been
poppin and i could hear my heart
beat
like maybe there’s an
infection or something

but that was before the
piss-colored anesthetic
numbed all the parts i use
to breathe and talk and swallow

on a nearby display outta
the corner of my one still
open eye,
i see
pulsing matter, in
me

as he thrusts his tool deeper he says
my eustachian tubes are fine
i thought only girls had them
i feel like neo from the matrix
gettin jacked from the front

i cannot remember anymore if i am
breathing, i can’t utter words
but the doc asks a question
look at this, do you see this
opening?!
i assume it is a
rhetorical
question

i cough on it, it feels like
a giant twizzler in there
he shoves it down further,
then, sidling up to me with
this mischievous glint
in his eye, like he is
about to guide the thing
into one of my
other openings
he says

“hey,
wanna see your vocal cords?”
i cannot say no,
but some gloop plops outta my mouth
as i try to
he takes it as a yes
spit and lube mixed together
seeps from my nose and
the corner of my mouth

i attempt to push him away
by thrusting my half-open fists
into the space in front of me
like ken in street fighter
bustin’ a hadouken

he tells me, peering at the
place where words are made

“hey,
say ‘one two three four five’
say it,
SAY IT!!!”

he is laughing like a maniac
he is a lunatic, i am his
human pocket
i can only whimper, i assume
the meager televised vibrations
are enough for him

when he pulls it out
i feel like
that guy who got stabbed by the t-1000
holding the milk carton ya know,
and the rest of it drips outta me

i am not sure what any of this
has accomplished
unless our ears are actually
deep inside us,
listening to the sounds
we make
that we might always remember
them, even without hearing

that night i can sense it
slithering up to me on tatami
the legless hose
i turn over, but see nothing

“this is not over”
it says
“this is not the end”