Into the tunnel, not of love,
not of ghosts, but MRI,
totally still you must lie said he with a squint,
with needles for this and for that
to control the peristaltic movements,
one lies to be heated by fire from beneath,
in a terrible sheath of metal
to weigh down your middle,
then it begins the booms and the blows
your breathing you suppose is as normal,
sweet music plays in your ear phones,
(and strangely enough in the key of the booms)
as you slowly get stiller and stiller,
and feel you will never recover,
your mind wanders here and there
out of the funnel to friends,
but you're there all alone so alone,
and wish to go home.
a sudden boom hammer like thunder,
you feel you're down under the sod
in your cylindrical coffin from God.
all at once you're dragged out, after the hour,
yes we've got all we want says the man,
get up if you can, but you can't,
as all is stood still, even will won't work,
and you walk on your way heavy footed and dizzy,
befuddled and muddled, but glad that its over,
its no dance in clover, oh no,
but just something one has to go through.
The MRI tunnel is inspiring with it rhythmical boom.
