Viewport width =
April 3, 2016 | by  | in Creative Writing |
Share on FacebookShare on Google+Pin on PinterestTweet about this on Twitter

My Iron Cervix

Whilst muttering all for my sexual prime,

I lay on the bed and tried not to faint.

The doctor was having a hard time

so the nurse held my arm, a pre-emptive restraint.

 

I lay on the bed and tried not to faint,

fought the urge to give doctor a kick.

Nurse held my arm, a pre-emptive restraint,

frowned as my pulse and consciousness slipped.

 

Fought the urge to give doctor a kick,

but the fucking bit of plastic wouldn’t go in!

Frowning, as my pulse and consciousness slipped,

she stopped, and said your cervix is iron.

 

The fucking bit of plastic wouldn’t go in,

and the doctor was having a hard time

so she stopped, and said your cervix is iron.

All the more for my sexual prime!

Share on FacebookShare on Google+Pin on PinterestTweet about this on Twitter

About the Author ()

Comments are closed.

Recent posts

  1. VUW Halls Hiking Fees By 50–80% Next Year
  2. The Stats on Gender Disparities at VUW
  3. Issue 25 – Legacy
  4. Canta Wins Bid for Editorial Independence
  5. RA Speaks Out About Victoria University Hall Death
  6. VUW Hall Death: What We Know So Far
  7. FANTA WITH NO ICE
  8. New Normal
  9. Come In, The Door’s Open.
  10. Love in the Time of Face Tattoos

Editor's Pick

Uncomfortable places: skin.

:   Where are you from?  My list was always ready: England, Ireland, Scotland, Wales, puppy dogs’ tails, a little Spanish, maybe German, and—almost as an afterthought—half Samoan. An unwanted fraction.   But you don’t seem like a Samoan. I thought you were [inser

Do you know how to read? Sign up to our Newsletter!

* indicates required