The Heart Doctor A massive MI, myocardial infarction, happens on a plane from London to LA. The woman doesn’t know her distress is a symptom of her heart. The pastor says, lift up your hearts, and we say, lift them to God. Everyone else was amazed, but Mary pondered these things in her heart.
Window to the Bay Sometimes I ask my patient, can you smell it? Of course, she can’t. Necrosis happens slowly, a little more each day. There’s time to adjust. My birthday was weeks ago. The flowers are dead. A clear square vase sits on the kitchen table, its decay, vegetable. I am no stranger
I’m Still Your Doctor I happen to be there when you’re admitted. My job is to keep you alive at any cost. Lucky for you that I have experience & I’m really good at diagnosing the opportunistic diseases of AIDS. So when you have the bad luck to have a rare pneumonia & a
I’m Still Your Doctor Read More »
Pucker The gods line up to kiss my left breast. Divine dimples appear as I raise my left arm. A star appears on my windshield too when a wayward stone strikes on the expressway,
Bird Neck What’s my basic unit of currency? It’s not dollars. Each patient makes a withdrawal. What’s the exchange rate? It’s not Medicare payments. Each prayer makes a deposit.
Star Light, Star Bright My sister says I go on and on about Miss Ingram, says I must be in love with her, but I’m not. I just like the way her dark hair hangs long, straight down her back, the way she smells like lavender when she comes to our desks to check
Star Light, Star Bright Read More »
Story for My Sister The moon sits on the left shoulder of Cristo Redentor. At least, that’s the way it seems to you from your gutter in Rio. You lay down here to cool off in the fire hydrant spray, one of the best hangover remedies. This time, the white marble Redeemer lends
Story for My Sister Read More »
During a week-long meditation retreat in 1999, ten years after graduating from medical school, I unlocked a box in my chest that held ten years’ worth of grief and anger. Tears and heat poured out of that box. I had survived medical school, postgraduate training, and my first five years as a full-fledged doctor, but
How Poetry Saved Me Read More »
Rising Incense Full sunlight can blind. I prefer the subdued brightness of Diebenkorn’s Ocean Park 117. The yellow on the bottom is a ground and a base.
Instructions for How to Start Over i. It’s not necessary to destroy everything. Everyone thinks that fire is cleansing, but fragments of bone are left behind; ashes cling to your face with static electricity. Still, they don’t disguise you. New life begins from excrement, the remains of what you consumed.
Instructions for How to Start Over Read More »
