David A. Goodrum

Doctored Phrases

I fade in and out as she describes the shadows
on static X-rays, the voyage of passing
through my body 3-D via MRI images
and the need for exploratory surgery

I feel like a room under renovation
demoed down to studs and rafters
light switches and fixtures torn away
pulverized drywall in the air

I’m on the outside looking in
through rain-slicked windows
a dim view of uninsulated pipes
ductwork and heavy-gauge wire
everything that removes waste
or bears energy, water, heat

I’ll figure it out when I get in there
she says like a poet unafraid
of blank white sheets
a trembling body underneath

David A. Goodrum is a writer/photographer living in Corvallis, Oregon. His poems have been published in Fireweed: Poetry of Oregon, Willawaw Journal, Spillway, Star 82 Review, The Louisville Review, among others. His photos have graced the covers of Cirque Journal, Willows Wept Review, Blue Mesa Review, Ilanot Review, and Red Rock Review. See additional work, both poems and photos, at www.davidgoodrum.com.