Gut Feeling

A Poem

By Alun Robert


Soaked me.
Scraped me.
Crushed me.
Sliced me.
Fumed me in a sulphur bleach.
Spun me round upon a lathe
striking out my sins of youth.
Auctioned me to the highest bidder
who shipped me off to a promised land.
Constrained and ran me round in circles.
Packaged me for a retail store.
Positioned me at front of window
in the sun where I sweated long.
Sold me to a virtuoso louche,
assigning to him my rights of passage.
Stripped me naked in his dressing room
wound me round his index finger.
Threaded me through holes, round pegs.
Tensioned me to breaking point.
Plucked me firm for pizzicato.
Bent an ear to hear me squeal.
Walked up stairs poco a poco
squeezing me with his bare hands.
Paraded me in front of masses
all baying for him to commence
controlling me in A sharp major
for andanté with feelings deep.
Pressed me tight onto a board.
Performed vibrato time and time again.
Rose to milk applause in raptures
flailing, bowing from my pain
until I broke for I had snapped.
Had to happen, could not last.
Discarded me to a garbage bin
off to fester amongst the trash,
on my way to bio-degrade
for a new life.
Another role.
Another roll
of my die.