Possible side effects may include

Possible side effects may include
dizzy spells
a debilitating sense of wonder
dry mouth
actually getting excited about vegetables
or at least trying really hard to
that feeling of melancholy that comes
like the tide, washing your feet
and then receding
but also soaking into the skin
tree envy
the seasons passing before your “I”s
getting sentimental at odd corners of the 7-Eleven

sitting on the bleachers at the minor-league ballpark and
thinking, well, shit, I don’t think I can do that anymore
sitting on the bleachers at the minor league ballpark and
not wanting to do that anymore
keeping used stubs from movies you didn’t even enjoy that much
becoming invisible to men
and other crone superpowers
hearing a song you remember, at somebody’s birthday party
at the grilling enclosure by the lake
and just kind of, leaning closer, you know, not to take part
in someone else’s birthday party or anything, just to be in the general range
of the song, which is old school, and your foot sort of taps
and before you know it you find you’re leaning towards
the enclosure, the smell of hamburger on your nostrils
and then you have this picture in your mind of someone seeing you
leaning toward the grilling enclosure, sniffing, so you pretend
you have something else to do and walk away purposefully
upset stomach
not wanting to wash off the little bit of dirt on your wheelchair
because it was such a good day out by the pines
the fading of jeans and old grudges
wandering down little streets while on vacation, but
not searching for anything
and definitely not searching for some vague nameless *something*
if anything, in retreat
from vague nameless somethings
collecting cats
waiting on the delicious punchline of a tacky joke
like you’re Muhammad Ali or whatever
your friend and you carting out the old story
about Jane asking for the rosehip water, which you both know by heart
the story a magic treehouse you both have constructed with pride
and you love gleefully inspecting every inch of it
again and again
seeing the smile on both your grandkids and wondering what you did
with that love letter to the future you wrote
and tore up
but perhaps not completely
forgiving even the assholes, which is probably what St. Paul was getting at
when he went on about the body of Christ because somebody’s gotta be, right
suddenly noticing that smell
that inhabited the barn when you were six
looking at a sunset – not even your
classic once-in-a-lifetime, trip-to-the-Med type of sunset
but just, you know, Thursday when you get your work done
and the colors just seem to chime together perfectly
as if they make the sound of the ice chinking against
that glass of something cool and lovely
which you cheers towards your remaining loved ones
and you think, oh my God, I actually am
so lucky to be here
having surprisingly good lunches in hospitals
being that asshole sometimes
and then somehow, by a hard-won grace
finding a way not to be
coming up with the right word or two at the right moment
to sum up everything
and maybe just one word, maybe just across the breakfast table
like you get to be Amanda Gorman for the world’s smallest inauguration
and maybe the word is just
shortness of breath

Plus, it cures
just about everything.
Ask your doctor
ask your friends
ask anyone who holds
at least an ounce of care in their possession
whether time is right for you.

About bobjanisdillon

Unitarian Universalist minister, poet, husband, father, three-chord guitar wonder.
This entry was posted in Devotional Poetry, Your Monday Blessing and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

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