Small
ants crawling
between first and second skin layers
finger nails dig and scrape
breaking skin.
Bacterium sneaks in at a hair follicle
white
blood cells and bacteria
push
the skin outward
building a red bump
cheery as WC Field’s nose
on
the top of the crack of my ass.
Each
passing hour
it
gets wider and higher
proud
like the American flag
on
the moon.
Three
days later the pincushion
has
the diameter of a nickel
high
as a dime
pins
stabbing even when buck-naked.
Boxer
shorts and pants
compete for space
rubbing, pressuring, agitating
the
swollen nerve endings
on
top of tomato red
and
Iguana-like skin
stretch to transparency
white
gooey mass pushing
through the greasy snow ball.
Ripe
ready to pop
holding back from squeezing
scream one loud “ouch”
discharging a viscid substance
like
angel hair spaghetti
ribboning out a pasta machine
deflating while “ahs” sing to bliss.
Instead rub cortisone ointment,
antibiotic gel and jelly lidocaine
on a
volcano ready to erupt
trying to put in dormancy.
