I met a nurse last night
By Alec Whittle

She used to come to my school
to test my hearing
and see if my spine was straight,
she still wore her uniform
and carried those headphones,
so I played along.
I still could not hear
the high pitches in my right ear
and she said that word again,
about how my back was crooked.
I asked if we could measure my height,
she said I had grown up just fine,
how about my weight? I asked,
or possibly my reflexes?
She put her hand on my stomach
as a tender creature landing there.
She said I had eaten well.
I told her how much I always
looked forward to seeing her, and
that I wished to marry her some day
when I was old enough.
Suddenly my right ear went singing
and my back loosened a bit.
She told me there was one thing that
the nurses had missed over the years.
I had never learned how to swim,
and that while drawing a picture of
serenity, it seems I had fallen in.
I told her she was the prettiest of ladies.


My name is Alec Whittle and here are four pieces for your consideration. I live in Seattle, I have performed and recorded spoken word with various musicians in New York and Seattle, I have written a few short films that have screened at festivals around the country as well as one book entitled Along Still River. I am currently focusing on more traditional means of getting my poetry out there. I thank you for your time.


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