A Poem at the Community Acupuncture Clinic

The Saturday poem: At the community acupuncture clinic

by Matthew Siegel

the forms are long ropes for climbing
into the heaven of good health.

They are held together with a clip,
a little mouth clamped down.

There is no space to write how the cold hands
of each doctor felt against my belly.

A volunteer takes me by the wrist
to meet the acupuncturist.

She flips through the pages of my blue scribbles
as I describe my complicated dream.

She wipes my forehead with an alcohol pad,
taps a needle into my third eye –

and I am almost silent now, just breathing,
as she hovers above each wrist and ankle,

a hummingbird pressing its thin beak
into flowers. My eyelids flutter each time

she taps a needle into me and when she’s done,
spreads a blanket across my body.

• From Matthew Siegel’s Blood Work (CB Editions £8.99). To order a copy for £7.19 go to bookshop.theguardian.com or call Guardian book service on 0330 333 6846.