I take one pill two
to mask what’s wrong in me
these hurtful words mouthing
sorry in the dark I shouldn’t rub
your back when my partner’s
on the coast on a beach here
it snows yes I know
this is no excuse tasteless tablet
smudged slate white mountain
I am the one percent meaning
I’m money poor but lucky to
live in the age of modern medicine
a dentist takes a drill
to my root and neither of us
feel anything a surgeon cuts
into Dad’s heart anesthetics
these aches we carry daily
the privilege why we don’t
say sorry when we mean it
at the drug store I buy a knife
(originally published in The Wayward Sword, Summer 2018)