Apparently there are kids my age in Africa
lining up to get needles stuck in their arms,
or so the fat nurse tells me.

I ask for numbing cream, and she says that I should stop being a
baby. "Do you think that the little kids in Africa get to use numbing cream
for their shrunken stomachs and rotten limbs."

But I don't care about the kids in Africa. I care about the needle
which she is filling with poisonous medicine,
and it moves towards me like the
mosquito's giant sucking mouth. "Count to ten and relax."
Easy for the woman with the weapon to say.

I've never felt famine punch me in the gut,
or have a disease dissolve me
but I do know how to count.

1 the needle
234 the nurse licks her lips
567 I think calming thoughts
8 I give up on calming thoughts and proceed to be horrified
9 it stabs my arm a second early,
She doesn't even say that she is sorry
for cheating.