epinephrine

[a little roadside poetry emergency]

It’s anaphylactic,
this shock
the poison juice
of a forbidden fruit
dribbled down my throat
so the silver tape constricts
til I need a longer sort
of breath.
Look, just rip
off the cap,
don’t fuss
for the vein
Quick! ram it
into my thigh,
right here,
on the outside
Break the pen
already, release
the epinephrine
words
into my stream.

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12 comments

  1. pastordt

    This would apply to a whole lot of emergency situations, seems to me. Hope yours was not too traumatic. Thanks for putting such good words to that feeling of need.

  2. The mirroring of the desire for inspiration to come and the impatience that sometimes boils to the surface is a great image. Enjoyed the extended metaphor!

  3. I’d both purchase by the case and buy stock! 🙂

  4. How do you write it out longhand like that?! And what is that off to the left in the picture?

    • Megan, I don’t do well with typing poems — sometimes when I type them they change form a little, like this one did, but the basics of it come out of a pencil. (You don’t see all the eraser marks in the picture, nor the other sheet that I try out words on.

      That is a roof sketch. I was working when Laura and Tania taunted this one out of me. 🙂

      • It is something that I lament, shifting to writing upon my computer rather than a journal or notepad. There is a disconnect when I type. Sometimes it means that I am able to write more quickly, but usually there is an organic component that feels like it’s missing. Do you have the same feeling Lyla?

        • I think it really depends on what I’m writing. I do better with the keyboard for articles and blog posts, but it seems like for poetry I need to feel the pen or pencil in my hand. And for some things I can be on the sofa and others I need the desk. I suppose someone could explain the psychology of all that… 😉

  5. fussing is no fun at all, especially when someone desires us to act

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