TMI for an MRI?

Sonnet by Ken Gosse

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My MRI beneath last night’s full moon
(it was, in fact, between sunrise and noon)
to find or not find what we hope’s not there
as restlessly I laid beneath its stare.

Magnetic in its power, it drew me in
upon a moving bed where I’d begin
to slide, like intercoursing a machine
as its hypnotic pounding viewed my spleen.

(Again, my discourse gangs a bit agley—
it stared within my prostate as I lay,
a private part which once helped lonely parts
perform the duties of life’s finest arts.)

Though earplugs and a headset dulled the noise,
I heard and felt the pounding of its joys
while inches from my nose, I saw a line
to center me within this womb’s design.

The magic MysteRI of medicine
perhaps found where my ending may begin.

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Ken Gosse prefers writing metric, rhyming, and light verse. First published in First Literary Review-East in 2016 and since then by Pure Slush, Spillwords, Written Tales Magazine, and others. Raised in the Chicago suburbs, now retired, he and his wife have lived in Mesa, AZ, for over twenty-five years with rescue dogs and cats underfoot.