One Poem by Stephen Kingsnorth


Who allocates out-patient rooms,
departments, as if body parts,
elementary, blocked canal?

Internal map, a circuit board,
old teaching aid, blood systems guide,
beside bare bones, skeleton hung.

Some bible tracts from chaplain’s rack,
Qur’anic, ecumenical,
to salve across the deeper wounds.

Why printed on a minor slip,
the major tear-off bit attached,
doctor’s scribble, notorious.

In crabby hand ‘oncology’,
as numbness wears, old feeling comes,
the anaesthetic, current shock.


Stephen Kingsnorth, retired to Wales from ministry in the Methodist Church (following the onset of Parkinson’s Disease), has had pieces accepted by Nine Muses Poetry; Voices Poetry; Eunoia Review; Runcible Spoon; Ink Sweat and Tears; The Poetry Village; Amethyst Review; Softblow Literary Journal; From the Edge; Gold Dust; The Seventh Quarry & Allegro Poetry Magazines.

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