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Laura, Toucan Editrice

Friday, December 17, 2010

Poem of the Week--The Tiny Room

Hello everyone! It feels like we've just woken up after anethesia, except being under wasn't pleasant. We just finished yet another semester of college, and those last few weeks were rough. No, to answer your eager inquiries, we have not actually mailed out your contributor copies of the Winter Issue. We fully intend to do so right after we post this. We heartily apologize...but you will get them for Christmas...

Also, copies of the Winter Issue were long ago distributed to our four locations where we sell them: Quimby's, Women and Children First, ShopColumbia, and Chicago Comics (links w/addresses on site). If you'd like to buy a copy but are not in the vicinity of these fine establishments, shoot us an email. They cost $4, $3 for the mag and a buck for postage.

Now, to the poem. Chicago poet Sheri Hillson has graced these pages before, and we're so happy to have her do so.

The Tiny Room

by Sheri Hillson

I arrive early as always;
the hospital demanded it.
Betsy the receptionist asked
If I had a living will;
a what? But I'm only 28.
It was blue in the waiting area
as the ladies from “The View”
were on the TV.
A little girl, about 3, was climbing
over the chairs in her paisley dress;
The nurse called for a few
of us to come with her.
She led us to a locker room
where she told us to take everything
off and put on gowns.
I did as she asked
Except I left my underwear on;
they won't mind.
Then she led us to separate rooms
with only three walls,
A curtain acted as the fourth.
I sat and waited, I paced and waited
For transport to wheel me into
the recovering room,
where a handful of patients are
waiting for Dr. Pivey.
I get a gurney
so I lay and waited.
It's cold and blue like a meat locker
when finally they wheel me in
(Nurses prepped me,
Pivey read his morning newspaper.)
They stick things to my chest and head.
The anesthesiologist talked me through it
as he pumped poison into my veins.
I felt it burn as it ran through my hand.
He's up
Dr. Pivey's turn to volt
me back to happiness.

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