Posts for June 28, 2022 (page 2)

I’ve developed an eye twitch every light looks like it’s flickering now it could be stress is what they told me probably not a brain tumor my body is compensating for every fear I’ve ever had the heart palpitations are preparing me to get out of here faster escape the situation that is putting me in danger how do you leave your own flesh if I keep asking the same questions enough I’ll find the reason for that mysterious pain google searching symptoms is not allowed what if it’s different this time that lump wasn’t there before I’ve been to four doctors in the past two months they could’ve missed something I’m not allergic to any medications that I know of my body temperature has risen one tenth of a degree for every time I’ve sought reassurance for the same abnormality I need to drink 32 more ounces of water today my right ankle makes a snapping noise with every other step I am too afraid to take pain relievers should I schedule another appointment just to be safe it hurts slightly differently than it did last time did I measure out my medication correctly when I swallow it feels like my throat is asymmetrical no I don’t know how to explain it why does it feel like I can’t breathe in all the way mom had colon cancer do you think every five years is often enough to get a colonoscopy what if the anesthesia doesn’t work this bruise is a different shade of blue than my other bruises the eye twitch is really starting to bug the hell out of me I can ask for reassurance one more time today what does it mean to survive if you aren’t living

A ghost lurks
just outside my window, pounding ethereal
fists on smudged glass that will not crack.

Hours of this pointless game fall
like the hands of a clock, ticking
ever downward.  There is no longer a ruckus
only canaries chatting, a distant chainsaw whirring, 
and the persistent tapping by my ear
as I rest my weary head upon the window
overlooking woods.

Now, even that woodpecker tip-tip-tap
has blown away with an estranged
wind, the ghost floating away and longing for a hazy 
October night where the cool air is ripe with fright.

Today, I ventured into Dragon cave

Take it off, Miss Liberty, all off. Show
battle scars behind your Dior shades, Nike
sweats, you know, the scars? Let our

throngs thrum our fingers along your
purpled mountain ridges, ropy maps hidden
under your regal robe, trace your liposuctioned

borders stretched across botched tummy tucks
of reconfigured states of blue and red. Go! Cross
this tired harbor, lead-footed, lean into East,

embrace tyranny, drop your mighty tablet
so you can grasp your crown of light, forget
old steamers, over-filled with displaced persons

rescued by Merchant Marines, why linger? Fade now,
stumble into the setting sun, leave your children here
to keep the torch of freedom afloat in your dirty wake.

The blue in the sky swallows

The pink and orange

I worry I’ll miss the fireworks

Or that the rain will cancel them

Time feels like it’s flying,

And there’s days I need it to

But days I wish it’d slow down

crawling on achy
grounds hands reach
for you and only
you but my silent
dreams and schemes
draw them away
from here where
eyes find something
that matters will sink
in dust as the morning
comes where the sun
never lasts in your day

I’ve always been a fan of painted brick
not sure why
it seems to offer a sense of assurance
an extra touch
stable and well dressed
preferences are interesting and I’m once again
a porch sitter
here in a rocking chair
admiring the sky, sunlight through the trees
listening to the hum of an a/c unit
connected to a house with an historic marker out front
I chuckle to myself at the irony but am thankful
for amenities and saving graces
tiny moments which signal our salvation
life is nothing more than our longest journey
and I’m privileged to watch it unfold from this porch
for the time being and that has to be enough
to ask for more is an attempt at cheating or much worse
a breach and I am choosing a pass
why not simply enjoy the beauty in receiving
I ask myself and answer I most certainly will

After two weeks of travel,
I come home to clusters
of balloon flowers,
5 inches taller, purple blooms
smiling all over the place–
my dog waiting,
his tail wagging wildly,
thumping against the screen door–
I walk into the kitchen,
dragging two duffel bags,
my husband steadies himself
with his hickory walking stick, 
gets up from his chair,
his silver salt and pepper hair
is shimmery and sexy,
our eyes meet–
I wonder why
I went on vacation in the first place.

I’ll grant you the
worthiness of clocks,
turn-taking, no-diving pools, even
the occasional citation for
indecent or dangerous behavior, but
earthly
social
norms
shall not shame me out of my
dream exit when I shed my
mortal shell, dressed for the
hereafter in green sequins and
Deco diamond drop earrings,
nestled among photos of my
beloveds, Ella Fitzgerald playing on
vinyl, as my crackling pyre
illuminates the dark and my
survivors toast with champagne.

Makes no difference to me
departing on land or sea;
I’ve no preference between
Viking or Gypsy.