May 2, 2022
Sea of Pills
A poem
Washing up on my shores
See two new doctors, at the table together
Stern and attentive.
I describe pain. What are you on? One asks
And answering, I stutter, my boat tips
We all fall into the sea
The sea of pills I navigate.
He says you have my attention. Touch your nose.
I’m concerned, says the other. Can you hop?
I cannot, I say. I cannot hop. Can you?
He swallows.
Yes, says the other. I have seen it.
He hops. He hops well.
They are quiet at this. Did he say those words
Does he hop?
It occurs to me I’m wrong about all this,
I blink and wonder. Are we under
The water? Now loosely swimming
Our limbs buoyed akimbo
Are we deep under the waves, looking up
At the dancing light —
He clears his throat. Pay attention, he says.
I focus, stifle my laugh. I laugh like a turtle
Swimming back to the bottom
Eyes ahead, twisting turning flipping
They know, they know my secrets. On their wrists
Are their secret coded walkie talkies
Where nurses lurk behind doorways, clipboards
And silent steps, I tell them
I tell them about time
How time contracts and releases
Do they have contracts? Releases? Am I all
To them, as they to me are all
Everything, the whole ball of turtle
Under the water. Isn’t that just like them?
