During the colonoscopy, orbiting through twilight sleep, .
***she felt, light-years distant in the interior darkness, a thump
And a dull but definite pain—as if someone were dragging,
***at the end of a rusty chain, a transistor radio through her body,
A small beige box with a gold grill, assembled by a child in southeast Asia
***in 1964—and she woke in groggy panic till the nurse made soothing noises
For her to sleep by, like a song in an alien language heard through static
***beamed from the far side of Arcturus: The Dave Clark Five's
"Glad All Over," maybe, tuned in by a boy in Thailand. Such a drug,
***the doctor said. Everything you feel you will forget.
Amen to that. Amen to plastic and silicon, amen to a living wage,
***amen to our tinny music, to the shrapnel in the IV drip,
Amen to the template of genes that keeps the body twitching
***and the wormhole in the gut of Orion I will slip through
When the chain breaks and the corroded battery bursts, its acids eating
***all the delicate circuitry that binds the speaker to the song.
During the colonoscopy, orbiting through twilight sleep,
TODAY IN SLATE
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But the next president might.
IOS 8 Comes Out Today. Do Not Put It on Your iPhone 4S.
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How Much Should You Loathe NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell?
Here are the facts.
Amazon Is Launching a Serious Run at Apple and Samsung
Slim Pickings at the Network TV Bazaar
Three talented actresses in three terrible shows.
More Than Scottish Pride
Scotland’s referendum isn’t about nationalism. It’s about a system that failed, and a new generation looking to take a chance on itself.