It’s an overused, I know, but when I have asthma like this, I feel like an animal backed into a corner. You work a man to death and then you starve him of food, deprive him of sleep. Being poor and getting any kind of health care means getting pushed through winding lines and at the end of it only receiving more anti-biotics.
hot tea
going down
to soothe
the troubled
lungs
please o’please
work a
magic miracle
restore me to my
pillow
for just
a few more
hours
In the night a hail storm smacked up against our window. A guy comes to the door and gives us his spiel. I have no money and have to turn him away, which is all right, since I’m having to turn myself away these days, too. Going without.
even the tea this time around will not stop the wheezing. I’ll try to get some sleep anyway.
BGKPOETRY.COM 