Literally, My Neck by Jerry Durick

Literally, My Neck

I travel here and there at break neck speeds

stick my neck out when I must, and happily

recall when I could neck for hours on end, but

at times my neck can also become something

quite literal, literally that stem between my torso

and head, the vertebrae I’ve seen posed painfully

in x-rays, that DMZ I’ve counted on for years

the link I need to help me nod and turn my head

when someone who turns heads goes by, hold my

head up despite the circumstances, bow it when

I feel humbled, I’ve clothed it in neckties and

scarves, necklaces and chains, stretched it, hid it,

know I could hang by it, can stretch it too far

a guillotine awaits, my executioner tests his blade

sends this preview, this literal pain in the neck

that doesn’t go away, impervious to pills and

ready to follow me through my neck of the woods.

J. K. Durick is a writing teacher at the Community College of Vermont and an online writing tutor. His recent poems have appeared in Social Justice Poetry, Tuck Magazine, Yellow Chair Review, Synchronized Chaos, and Haikuniverse.