Poem of the Month
Ward Calls

By Deena Kara Shaffer

Published on March 1, 2014

First, post-diagnosis apology.
Next, a trained volunteer’s called in
to make the lonely wait less so.
Then, the oncologist comes armed
with a social worker, to talk it out, softly.

Noxity, necrosity, one node at a time,
less pink, less supple, less discrete:
the disease drone on a roll.

Near the end, calls out for the commode,
and a PSW to wipe;
Yelping Lactulose! for narcotic’s bind, Ativan for the fear.
Last, Haldol, for the verge,
and a priest to sing you there.

More Poetry

AIDS Ward

This is the bed, empty again, next to the man dying. This is the strap that ties down the man that lies next to the empty bed.

Streets

By Lee Maracle

I know ...

Unsigned City

I detail the verbal exchanges with the affronted voyager on distant terraces, each equivalent in the space of the citation. Attempt in the morning: the magnolia garden inspecting its blue lack. Through the telescope, beautiful women make jewellery and dissolve in water.