prednisone

The Pill Poems — 10

Day one—
the kingdom is burning.

Fingers bent like fish hooks.
Fire in every seam.

By noon—
I have cleaned three drawers,
alphabetized my books 

At 2 a.m.
the ceiling stares back.

3 a.m.—
I shuffle the mail.

4 a.m.—
My heart
Gallops. 

I am starving
for everything.

Tomorrow
my face will belong
to the moon.

—

from The Pill Poems

Micropoems on medicine, illness, and survival.

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