Day 1
A warm summer day,
Luxurious sunlight we haven’t seen in weeks.
Bloor bustling with limbs and faces and trays of sample iced tea.
Turn on to Runnymede and keep going.

Step into the doctor’s office
(Really a house)
(Really the basement of a house)
Such is the state of things.

The basement
The office is dark.
Which is an odd touch for the purpose.

Set the scene:
The long couch, one end curling like a ram’s horn, where your head is supposed to lay.
And the impassive authority on the chair opposite.
The impassive authority of whom the previous has praised as the ultimate.
To whom the government offers the people’s taxes
Because he is educated and knowledgable.
Feel free to get comfortable.
I am sitting in a dark basement.
I can hear his roommate above us.
He crosses his legs.
He places his head in the palm of his hand.
He stays like that.
The clock ticks and the hour passes
And he stays like that, we stay like that,
Until the hour ends and
“That’s all the time we have for today.”

Day 2

Again, I sit.
Again, he sits.
Head in his hands.

Where did you study?
You’re supposed to be doing the talking.
How can I offer
The pain in my heart,
Lord supreme of smothering silence,
To a stranger?
(Albeit one with a medical degree,
Framed and stamped on the wall behind him).
I despair
As the hour passes
And he looks up from his silent self-caress to note
“That’s all the time we have for today.”

Day 4
More of the same.
Salutations, silence, and
“That’s all the time we ha-“

Day 7
I suppose our therapeutic style will be silence
Go fuck yourself, old man.

Day 9
If this is the ultimate authority,
I am doomed.

Day 11
A family member passes.
I call in to report.

Day 20
Before resuming his position, he hands me a paper.
Your bill for the previous session
I called in.
You were under the impression that was sufficient?
Well, that is unfortunate.
I cannot afford this.
That is similarly unfortunate.

Day 26
I enter the basement
Fuck off.
I enter the basement.

I do not think this is working well for me. I will not continue.
Do you want to know what I think?
Of course.
I think you’re a troubled woman who will require years of extensive
Wonderful. Good day to you, doctor, hope for the despondent.

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