it’s been like being in hospital (& not):

I wrote these lines last Saturday, but – for reasons I won’t go into here – embargoed this piece until I felt like posting it. Now, in the same space on another day of high heat & humidity, & in the midst of another writing spate, I feel like posting it.

With this heatwave outside it’s been
like being in hospital (& not):
I haven’t been outside for two days
but I feel I’m in a good place,
especially now, thanks to the god
or whatever, of grass,
& the grower & waterer,
& the vaporizer operator,
& my still-capable lungs, & me

a nice place to be
to see what I see
when I’m stoned
like

this

this this

here now

& matters
however pressing,
oppressing, represssing,
suppressing, depressing,
elsewhere & elsewhen
simply don’t matter

with my afternoon glass of tea
& a spray of nicotine
I know some drugs are good for me
in good doses

& though even here
I may natter again of such matters
or of other differences
between hospital & here
where I share a space
with only one other person
& the occasional visitor,
& my editor says
the details don’t matter either,
so I delete them.

So.
Maybe enough sitting here for now.
Move about.

Whoo, I’m back quickly,
though moving slowly, unsteady on my legs,
I’m more stoned than I thought,
more stoned than I ought
to be, but N’s cutting some watermelon,
& I’ll start coming down
(I hope, that’s what usually happens)

Ah! & some blueberries too
on the white plate that she brought me,
the cold sweetness of the watermelon pieces,
every berry to the last, every piece
a taste of honey dew (“Weave a circle… “)

& now for a spray of nicotine
& goodbye for now.

 

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