Advertisements
It brings the parade
Of all the Greek suffixes
“The study of…”
As though I am a faulty machine
A misfiring engine to be corrected
It brings the experiment
First one medicine and then the next
And then the answer
Eventually
To continue all
As my dreams are broken
By lungs screaming
As my days are punctuated
By slow suffocation
As I wait
I wait
For ears to listen
And scientific minds to seek an answer
Not the stopgap
Of drowning every fourth hour
Or remaining upright
While my body seeks rest
But, no – I must become
The physician
To heal myself
Where others will not
No matter their years of study
No matter their specialty
No
In the end, it is the poet
The writer
The lover of language
Who must find the solution
And the medicine
To heal – Caroline A. Slee