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POEM: hiccup

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/ / /


I’m not even sure how to spell it
hiccup? hiccough?
one of the body’s mysteries
a reminder that our agency
is illusory / at any moment
the physical can reassert control
stop a heart at the dinner table
collapse legs on a busy street
as a packed bus bears down
I could awaken tomorrow
having taken my last step
handwritten my last poem
are these words worth it?
in the constant glare
of oncoming headlights
I reach for
(my notebook)
(the phone)
(my lover’s cool white hand)

Published in My poems Poetry


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