went to the doctor
went to the doctor. It had been so long since I’d seen a doctor I
thought she was doing an interview with me. When we first met, she
said: Married, Single, Widowed, Divorced? I thought that was a bit
personal. But I told her about my children, my husbands, my job, my
furnace, my fall. About how I slept like a top. And Gold’s Gym. And the
sunken garden in the Pendleton House which is a house inside a museum.
And my famous story of how I immigrated 11 years ago with $400 and a
7-year old child. We talked about poetry. Well, duh. But it was
actually much broader than most poetry interviews, looser yet more
intense. She asked me about drug use. Marijuana. Cocaine. That made me
laugh. Everyone was so interested in me. It was marvelous. Even the
nurse in Reception asked as she was passing: Do you happen to know your
height? Boy did I! Then the Office Manager arranged all my
appointments. I haven’t had so much attention since the MLA or my first
wedding. I’m going back.