Poem: Chronic

 

Chronic

 

the pains in my body

have been many creatures.

some with poison.

some with teeth.

 

they’ve done their best

to slay patience,

ensnare the wings

of my mind;

 

and my tendons

have struggled in their webs,

my nerves gnawed

by their scorpions and widows.

 

i’ve lost many times,

pinned down by sobs,

surrendering to hate.

 

when i can walk,

how different life’s moments are.

how naïve--

 

the little smiles and frowns

of the ordinary,

childlike in the gaps

between the knives.

=====================

For one injury, I waited a year to get treatment, because in America, medical treatment is not a right, and I would've had to pay $9000 before the insurance company even began to help out.  I didn't have that money to spare.  I had to wait until I could figure out some better insurance.  This is how we live in the USA.

The sad story of America is great wealth and power after WWII, and then that wealth and power causing greater and greater corruption and decline, the moral fabric of the people degenerating d into cheap hedonisms, petty envy, pernicious bickering and decadence for the wealthy.   That said, there was an awakening, too, of values of equality and Earth-awareness, a counterforce to the corruption, and the longstanding climate of vicious racism, which originated in slavery and only intensified in the South after the Civil War to end slavery.