Pant-ing, or My Genes Have the Blues
“What I yearned most
for as a child that I did not get?” She asks us as I sit at our journaling
group at the drop-in center for the mentally ill.
I am out of breath, gasping for air, tension electrifying out of my skin –
bombarded by manic drivers, sub woofers on steroids, rudeness,
and then a loud stereo greets me,
as I enter here at Seward Community Support Program.
I have general
anxiety disorder, bipolar disorder and a super sensitivity to loudness, I have
Lyme and bartonella diseases which exacerbate this; I have Babesia (a red blood
cell parasite) and human herpes virus six; all are very difficult to get rid
of. I leave home only for health appointments and this wonderful group ─
As all my being tries to relax,
I ponder what as a child I did not get:
My genes have the
blues. I wanted ─ and still do ─
DNA swirling in rhythmic harmonious helixes,
endorphins partying in vast numbers round my campfire,
neurotransmitters, encephalins and happy hormones
swarming my attitude like K-Mart shoppers seeking the blue light and
soothing biochemicals bathing my myelin sheath
in nerve-sedating reassurances.
But my genes have the blues, produced by
Levi Stress.
These mother Dockers Wrangle my serenity.
My genes and I are a-frayed duet, and
the patches do not hold for long,
but alas there are and will be better days,
ones in which I will not, as now,
Be pant-ing.
I am out of breath, gasping for air, tension electrifying out of my skin –
bombarded by manic drivers, sub woofers on steroids, rudeness,
and then a loud stereo greets me,
as I enter here at Seward Community Support Program.
As all my being tries to relax,
I ponder what as a child I did not get:
DNA swirling in rhythmic harmonious helixes,
endorphins partying in vast numbers round my campfire,
neurotransmitters, encephalins and happy hormones
swarming my attitude like K-Mart shoppers seeking the blue light and
soothing biochemicals bathing my myelin sheath
in nerve-sedating reassurances.
These mother Dockers Wrangle my serenity.
My genes and I are a-frayed duet, and
the patches do not hold for long,
but alas there are and will be better days,
ones in which I will not, as now,
Be pant-ing.
Maybe you should abandon blue jeans altogether. Khakis, a loose frock, capris, a silk bathrobe. Any of these would be a good place to start. The second stanza is a delightful vision — may it sustain you when your blue jeans are too coarse and tight and ill-fitting.
ReplyDeleteWow. Lol. All the ‘gene/Jean reference! Brilliant and poetic.
ReplyDelete