Monday, June 3, 2013

First Person Plural

Two tylenol,
Because this pounding isn't going anywhere, anytime soon.
You know you brought it on yourself:
Eyes fastened on bright lights through the night,
Feverish fingers twitching and clicking.
Tell them you're the girl with the exploding head--
Bring a doctor's note and identification, so they can check it--
And you need your head for something,
Just can't quite remember what.
(Need a not-exploding head so you can remember
Why you need a not-exploding head?
That's circular reasoning.
A circle isn't the only thing
Goes round and round and never ends:
A square does, too,
Just stops some places on the way.)
Maybe if we fall
(You first, because I'm scared)
And fall and fall and keep falling
Like Alice--
She used to talk to herself, like us--
Or Gollum, precious--
Maybe then
It'll swell large and light, like a balloon
(A blue balloon, or a green one)
And not sit so heavy on our shoulders.
(You fall first.)
Till then,
Here's the bottle.
Feverish fingers,
Hot eyes struggling to read the label:
Two tylenol, that's all,
Wouldn't want to take too much--
Then curl up and write bad poetry
Till the pounding stills and the pain is gone.
Maybe we'll sleep today,
Precious.

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