They poked me with a straw
and sucked out some adipocytes, five bulbous bubbles.

I told the nurse my mom died from it
so she held me while she cried,
weeping for the theoretical death of her own mother.

I do not cry.

Four transparent hand grenades dangle from my bodice.

1,300 milliliters worth sucked from my side.

These bombs are just leeches
sucking my fluids with surgical straws so I do not detonate.

Blowing a blue bronchi with an incentive: inflating the piston.

The throat’s vacuum sucks
the air out my respiratory balloon and a string
attached to mother’s hand

And now I understand her decaying moans washed ashore from intercostal canals
after the mass broke the vessel,
a boat adorned with aspirating diamonds.

Gina Tron

GINA TRON is the author of three books including "Me Wet On The Internet" which The New York Times called an "anthropological study" and "You're Fine.",an addiction and mental health memoir that the bookstore The Strand labeled 'Best of the best." Her work has appeared in The Washington Post, Hunger Mountain, VICE, Politico and elsewhere. She is expected to obtain an MFA at the Vermont College of Fine Arts this May.

Latest posts by Gina Tron (see all)