BARDIA SINAEE
The Rusty Toque | Issue 10 | Poetry | June 30, 2016
BLOOD WORK
1. Out with the sun and the succulent jade It is the squelching armpit of August When simply living is enough for people Approaching each other with a put-upon look This weather, what it does to you Otherwise one must always look ahead The potted cuttings abound with late growth The park is dedicated to the missing girl Love is for the lucky and the brave You will experience good health 2. There’s a joke about a juice box and a catheter The nurse with all the piercings likes to tell But all is haste and consternation The doctors are braced for an arresting discovery Consulting their palette of opiates Devising new ways to infiltrate the living organism Now that the counts are down Visitors are mild and deferential You struggle to remember what they say Grateful that at least the counts are in The nurse applies a swab and starts to spin 3. If you have trouble keeping track of time If you feel you’re being punished If you have trouble with basic tasks Lifting a water glass No one will hold it against you It’s like when you were younger Someone is keeping an eye on you It’s getting dark and someone is driving you home CHEMO DAYS
My knees are toast, my hair is falling The forecast is calling for a foot of rain Lots of people wait for chemo Wearing brightly coloured ponchos Dripping, tacky ghosts line up to pee Or take a number at the pharmacy I'll wait a little longer or a while Nodding hello to other patients Who have allies on the staff at all the stations Lots of people sit or stroll With little bags of poison hung on poles Nurses stop to ask me how I feel People say my outlook could save me But all they gave me was this coat rack on wheels AFTER SCHUYLER
Darker sooner again and colder as the sky went from gym-mat-blue to stone- grey. I’ve done every daily crossword since you left, noting for your amusement the more uninspired clues, for instance twelve across on Tuesday November 3, a four-letter word for “flier,” was “bird.” Dear Gemini, today the planets warn your selflessness will be used against you by a Capricorn. Please tell me, call me out if ever this is true. I shouldn’t like to be spoken to in placating tones, I think, only to be vibrant like a Japanese maple against muted pines. Still, one chill wind and I’m back inside, plotting my triumphant return as well as yours, repotting the convalescent jade so that it might live to greet you with the sun under curfew. |
BARDIA SINAEE is the author of the chapbook Blue Night Express (Anstruther Press). His poems have most recently appeared in The Malahat Review and Best Canadian Poetry 2015 (Tightrope Books). He lives in Toronto.
