New Wave: Post Op

By MARIA TERRONE

Such an adrenaline rush to find
myself alive
this seventh time, injected
with glee on the stretcher,
making my usual “I’m o.k.” calls,

and thinking I’d heard the surgeons’ banter
as I struggled to swim back up
to the light and cold,
their talk about a French film
recently revived,

but I couldn’t know for sure
because I was a body freeze-framed,
halted in black and white
on the grainy sand
of a beach like Antoine Doinel
trying to flee those 400 blows.

 

[Purchase Issue 14 here.]

 

Maria Terrone’s poetry collections are Eye to Eye; A Secret Room in Fall (McGovern Prize, Ashland Poetry Press); The Bodies We Were Loaned; and a chapbook, American Gothic, Take 2. Her work has appeared in magazines including POETRY and Ploughshares and in more than twenty-five anthologies. 

New Wave: Post Op

Related Posts

Image of objects under shards of broken glass.

Dey

STEPHANIE DINSAE
A young child, I was privy to hearing this word / in my household, around my uncle and his friends / reminiscent of his schoolboy youth. / A part of a pidgin I could never participate in / for fear that the broken English might / have too much of an essence...

hashem beck

Sometimes All You Can Do Is Wait

ZEINA HASHEM BECK
I take photos of the skin on my thigh, the side of my breast, / my arm, my calf, my belly, & send them to friends. See? / They reassure & recommend doctors. My mother suggests / baking soda mixed with oil or water, rosewater perhaps

An image of Castro Street in San Francisco

Castro Street

PHILLIP WATTS BROWN
As through a prism, the city shifts / to rainbow. We cross into technicolor, / the famous marquee lipstick red / against blue sky.