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Pink Polka Dotted Kewpie Doll
I try to paint
with a shock I realize it is giving me no thrill
No joy; for the first time in six years
I return to the middle bedroom
darkest, gloomiest room in the house
turn on my electric blanket and go to sleep
wake up wondering if it is morning or night? Does it matter?
I am on strong meds; they keep me loopy.
Benadryl is a killer, keeping me sleepy, in perpetual lah-lah land.
Pink dots are parading up and down my arms and legs
I am scratching my torso until she bleeds
I look like a pink polka dotted Kewpie doll.
An angry pink polka dotted Kewpie doll
Thanks to yesterday’s prescription which I was allergic to.
Being sick is infuriating.
I am enraged.
Angry that it is me.
Copyright ©
Caren Krutsinger
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