Toenail, IngrownA Poem by Grace KinseySilly poem about my boyfriend and an ingrown toenail or two.
Toenail, ingrown
My boyfriend, a picker a shredder a squeezer a ripper. This ripping caused him once to suffer an ingrown toenail. Every step, he hobbled and winced and exclaimed, as though his trainer was made of blades. At first I laughed. I thought he was joking. The ingrown toenail grew out. But he continued to pick. He hadn't learned from previous experience because I definitely won't let it get like that again; Besides it wasn't that bad. And then, again, the prickling panic of his big toenail on the left ripped just a little too far... And the waiting... as the toenail burrows deep, with the impotence of an acorn in winter, about to pulled from its dark earthy security by a starving squirrel, digging and digging and digging. Grace period over. My boyfriend, the picker the shredder the squeezer the ripper is helpless, and doomed to hobble and wince and exclaim again. To play out the drama of a toenail ingrown.
© 2015 Grace KinseyAuthor's Note
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3 Reviews Added on February 10, 2015 Last Updated on February 10, 2015 AuthorGrace KinseyOxford, OXON, United KingdomAboutI am a literature student from the UK. I am currently in a minuscule town in France for my year abroad. I haven't written much in the past but when I have written things I've enjoyed it, and now is my.. more.. |