The Raging and Consuming War of The Poetics

Part III

When I grew too old to crawl behind the
red vinyl couch,
and we moved from my beloved Indiana home,
to a state where everyone spoke slowly and with a drawl,
I restlessly searched a new place to hide;
I secured a imaginary shovel
and began to dig;
my first goal was to dig to China –
fall through the sky and land among red Chinese lanterns;
after about fifteen minutes of digging,
I decided there had to be another way.

my mind took me back to age ten,
when I was sick for days and I lost my hearing,
my mother refused to take me to the doctor,
and I suffered, lying on the red vinyl couch,
my grandmother desperately trying to help me,
I emerged several days later,
my world silent,
and so it would be for several months…

Memories of deafness still make me feel some anger;
it never should have happened,
the 1970s had modern medicines – antibiotics,
my mother never came to touch my brow,
or ask how I was feeling –
I just rested on the red vinyl couch and moaned in agony,
for days and days and days and days…

– Michellia D. Wilson 8/23/14 10:50 am

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