Drug Study (lab rat)
I look up my symptoms heart flutter murmur ache in chest
The ribavirin blues are gone now seeped out like UFOs
my leg shrunk but the ankle still swells
all because of a dirty needle visions of my past drip and the virus slithers
out eyes the medicine doesn’t do that skinny nurse ashtray stink
EKG nipple patch I pray I’m touching the hem of your garment so now look at me
I ran you know before this bomb went off in the body
before the itch on the right calf here, I will draw a map imagine the bruised knee is El Salvador. my thigh like Mexico. California is California but Texas
has a growth inside
and all run to the gynecologist (this medicine doesn’t cause side effects, they said) I ask
a woman in cowboy boots if the vagina felt rough the part
before the finger slides in everything is normal she says
everything is fine the sick left went somewhere else
This is modern medicine
This is the miracle drug
This is what it’s like to die I say left in the pines with Alice
(Dear Ms Notley, you wrote such beautiful poems in France while undergoing treatment & now
I understand each word.
Hello Alice, why won’t anyone answer me?)
the body grows two sizes fat
and eats itself
Kat Moore has essays in the Yemassee Journal, 5×5 Lit Mag, & Blunderbuss Magazine. She has fiction and poetry at Negative Suck, U of M Magazine, & others. Her short story ‘Kissing River Phoenix” has been adapted to a short film by Polyphony Creative. She is a 2nd year MFA student at The University of Memphis. She lives in Memphis with her dilute tortie, her boyfriend, & 2 dogs.
http://katmoorewriter.wordpress.com
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Cover image: Chrystal Berche