The Raging and Consuming War of The Poetics

Part XIV

In 2000 I fell ill,
literally
I had to be carried out of my apartment by two policemen,
put in my sister’s car –
I never would have guessed I would soon be paralyzed
from my neck down;
what person ever thinks at age 34 that she will be taken down?
It was months before I made it back to my apartment,
wheelchair bound for years,
and now – 2014 –
still cannot walk very well.

Why?
what has God planned in all this suffering?
I cannot pay my rent,
meat and fruit are luxuries,
no fuel in my truck,
I fall every day,
my bones hurt to their marrow,
I cry every night,
and my brain works on halves –
or maybe I should say bi-s,
manic, sad, manic, sad,
pills of all colors, bitter, nasty,
none of this seems fair;

oh, beautiful poppy field,
take me away…

– Michellia D. Wilson 08/23/14 9 PM

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