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Sound Effects

Doctor promises no pain, a brief exam,
an Echo-something, sounds mild enough,
Echoes, a nostalgic spur to memories.

Technician gently glides the microphone
over the left quadrant of my chest, a tape
records circulation on the TV screen.

Lights subdued Karen whispers cryptic
observations, my attention wanders,
I sense no anxiety, I'm in good hands.

Karen advises, sound will now come on,
to hear four heart valves, as they control
the flow and maintain a rhythmic beat.

I hear a snarling, snuffling, slavering
beast, the room suffused with jungle noise,
naked claws tearing at the cage of my chest.

Another valve sends frightful signals,
less like a lion's roar, but as ugly as
a hyena's screams, screeching vultures.

Each valve is home to baleful creatures,
barely held in prison chambers, yet
menacing my composure and my sanity.

No harm is done, no pain remains,
then why, I ask, do I depart,
a ragged rag, wrung dry?

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