photo by octoptimist courtesy Pexels
A poem can spasm, stretch, but it can let salve in.
There aren’t enough pages for the longing.There aren’t enough pages for the longing
drenched in medicine bottles and ice packs.Drenched in medicine bottles and ice packs,
our aches sing beyond joints and stethoscopes in denial.Those who sing beyond joints and stethoscopes in
denial, how do the symptoms stack your days?Let’s name the stacks of dangerous symptoms:
News coverage, the state, strangers who say the pandemic is over.News coverage, the state, strangers who say the pandemic is over
as I dream about a world that celebrates all of us.As I dream about a world that celebrates all of us fully,
Let’s allow poems to stretch. Let the salve in.
Kay Ulanday Barrett self-describes as “a transgender Pilipino Disabled poet, performer, educator, speaker, cultural worker & strategist, and snack eater galore.” In the Academy of American Poets’ online space to “find and share the perfect poems,” earlier this month Kay reflected:
…As poets, we can practice holding delicate moments, human and inhumane nuances…. Many live during a global pandemic that is ignored. Millions live in contexts in which they’re just trying to stay alive. I am tired of resilience. Tired of people risking the lives of others. The repetition in form here conveys exhaustion and a rhythmic reframe too: Let’s dream something else…
“Duplex for the Sick & Tired” copyright ©2024 Kay Ulanday Barrett. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on May 17, 2024, by the Academy of American Poets (sign up for Poem-a-Day emails here).