Poems from The Aphasia Cafe

Abstract

### Joe > My niece, boy, she > > does not put up with sass. > > She makes my bad arm reach, > > makes me tell stories, repeat > > “no ifs, ands, or buts.” > > When what comes out is mmm > > ffmmm … Shit! > > she doesn't take it wrong. > > Rehab's good; the VA's > > never let me down. > > This arm curls up my chest. > > This leg won't bend. > > These fingers won't un bend > > like they've got my hat, and > > I'm standing for the anthem > > or Pete Rose is at the plate. > > I made sergeant in Korea > > then came Panama, the booze > > my fist, my ugly mouth > > got me busted back to private. > > I wasn't any prince, but peace > > was hard. > > Things I need to say > > stick here — this goddamn tongue > > is one gigantic tip. Shit. > > A bird just sits there > > like he's scared of air. > > Some words don't even make it > > to the tip, lost down some tree > > that lightning struck. > > Doc Fogelsong, > > he won't give up. > > But I know when a bird > > won't fly again. > > Last summer my coyote trap > > snapped a barn owl's wing. > > All goddamn summer > > catching mice for him (turns out > > he likes the beef from Safeway > > just as good). > > He settled in that charred sequoia tree. > > Even with a cane, it's easy to get to. > > He never is afraid. > > He knows it's me. ### I. > I gave Grand Rounds today at four, > > had every hand high in the air > > guessing at my beautiful rare > > case. I really should give Grand Rounds more. > > No one got it, …