SON OF THE MANY HEADED HYDRA

After so much time
in the shadows
I grew accustomed—
my vision now darkens
everything I see. The world
turns to shade and privet.
Color is about light, light
is about reflection—
my vision is projection
and darkens everything.
When I look away,
there’s another face
looking back at me
no escape
from this gaze.

SON OF THE BIONIC WOMAN

They sent away
to Germany for
my new jaw—sleek
and titanium with its
tiny punk-rock screws
holding it in place. Maybe
I’ll finally be able
to take a punch
or at least roll
with them following
in your bionic
legacy. No leaping
to catch the bad guys
that you overheard
from afar plotting
with the Soviets.
That’s how far we are
from each other, your
tinny embrace. This
is how they will
identify the body—
my body—after a plane
crash. My jaw
the missing link,
they genetic leap
DNA forged
just between
she and me.

Michael J. Carter is poet and psychotherapist living in the New Hampshire woods with two houndsBirdie and Omarand a lot of books. His poems have been published in many journals including Western Humanities Review, Ploughshares, Columbia Poetry Review among many others. He most recently guest edited  Poets Resist for Glass: A Poetry Journal. 

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