That Would Be Scanned
The year started with poetry.
I scanned in whispers, catching
The rhythms of Hardy, Larkin.
Work out the beat; where lies the stress?
Would it be out by a foot, would we find
Curious aberrations to the rule?
Next, I was taught to scan
Documents and send them
Winging through digital air.
Mysterious message: picture and word.
Now, I’m the thing that is scanned.
My body the picture, mine the beat and the stress.
Curious aberration to the rule?
Ultrasound, CT, PET, Octreotide, MRI.
That almost scans.