Migraine365: The Sumatriptan Series

In Fall of 1992, I believe, or maybe Spring 93, I took an Intermediate Poetry class with an instructor and poet named Tom Andrews. He was bald, soft-spoken. I don’t know if he encouraged me, after a number of missed classes and my explanation, to use my illness as muse; but then, I already had,…

On Second Thought

Maybe the Pain Management Clinic Will actually be beneficial. I like and respect Dr. S And she recommended this. The last two weeks have been brutal It is easy to give up hope But I did fight, and got this appointment And while I fear it will go badly There’s no reason to be upset…

My Body’s Betrayal – a prose poem

“I have no idea what I’m talking about / I am trapped in this body and can’t get out”  — Thom Yorke An empty husk, sunk into a permanent hollow in the flannel sheet and mattress A mattress that used to be his mother’s Everything here used to belong to someone else, myself included. Perhaps not…

Blind

*I usually don’t go for rhyming poetry, but this seemed to write itself today. John’s birthday was yesterday and by bedtime it had become particularly difficult. Sometimes, it’s true, migraines are emotional, stress and fear leaking from the heart to the mind. And so. New snow, that breathless bright white Usually brings joy, but some…