PROBLEM POEM

I started this two years ago, put it away, and have since dragged it back out to tinker with so I can include it in my thesis.  The line breaks still aren’t where/how I’d like them to be, and the 2nd stanza is not quite right either.  So the thinking and tinkering will continue…


Treatment 

 

Just a pinch,

then small talk as the

needle punctures my skin.

A tug.

Retraction then forward motion.

A push against bone as the nurse works

to advance the catheter into my vein.

 

Given the times I’ve sat and received like this,

I should be able to breathe during this routine

to make bearable an invisible disease, but

these warm blankets are not a cocoon.

 

My limbs fall slack only when

the room grows Benadryl dim.

Only then am I lulled to sleep,

my ears filled with the hum

of the medicine pump’s

whirr-and-tick.


Treatment footage…