Dean Meredith


It’s a weak dry cough
And a head full of cement
It’s a little bit of phlegm
Every now and then
A throat like a cheese grater
Shaving raw testicles
A body like someone else’s
Old shrivelling slowly dying
Like a slug in an oven
Its red onion eyes
With lemon peel lids
It’s the short sharp tip
Of a breath full of fear
Like inhaling needles
On Everest

Submitted: Wednesday, December 14, 2011

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Comments about this poem (Symptomatic by Dean Meredith )

  • Rookie Sam Aleks (12/14/2011 11:57:00 PM)

    It's a pack of blunt words pieced together in a sharp and dramatic way. well done. (Report) Reply

  • Rookie - 0 Points Greg Uhan (12/14/2011 11:27:00 PM)

    Wow moving poem. Imaginative, humane and deeply personal.
    One smells the breath, feels the touch of death. (Report) Reply

Read all 2 comments »

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