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| Starpoet Newsletter Vol. IX, No. XL |
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| Written by Lisa Jain Thompson | |
| Sunday, 12 October 2008 | |
 The StarPoet Newsletter
Vol. IX, No. XL In the moment, we balance
Neither undiscovered country
Nor yet a memory We are one
We are two Washing with the river To the distant sea Forever now and always
With you Lisa Jain Thompson c. 2008 C. E.
 And then ...
 too many hours watching the history channel while recovering
A Place at the Table
I want to be more than a fading image
On a History Channel documentary, Camera fodder to fill the demand For twenty-four hour product. I am not an Alexander laying siege to Tyre,
Not even a Graecian poet-woman Holding court at intellectual soirées, Nor fanatical Paul, nor bright incandescent Leonardo Or a self-educated dramatist on the Thames. But more than this
I am and will be Always. Lisa Jain Thompson
October 2008 a lot of time to remember
Encounters
In those medieval days before soya and substitutes,
I was born allergic to cow’s milk; I was all goats milk and projectile vomiting, My mother’s breasts unwilling to provide much sustenance. Six decades later, my body’s still inventing new games
To test my willingness to survive: Why should my answer now be any different? Lisa Jain Thompson
October 2008 There are three small caliber holes in my stomach
where my surgeon removed my gall bladder. A fourth lurks inside my belly button, hidden from the human eye. I shall make up great stories about how I was shot
and survived to tell thee. modern tech
Against the Barbarians
There is a pain in my arm
Where the cyborg vents Enter my inbound vein, An itch and dull ache That suggests my body’s Desire to be free Of this medical intrusion Into its autonomy. Kill the bacteria, remove the PIC line,
Die, Germ, Die! Lisa Jain Thompson October 2008 reportage
Fodder for the Newsletter I have written two newsletters
-- The poems are OK to good, not great -- Focusing on this contention Between poet and her body That tries my will and temperament. I will see two doctors next week:
One my surgeon who will cut into me on Friday; The other, the good doctor treating this infection Who will take the stent out of my vein And return some normalcy to my life. I write and devour my experience,
Tracking this pestilence That would preoccupy me. Lisa Jain Thompson
October 2008 Gross Description:
Received in formalin is a partially fragmented gallbladder, measuring 7.0 cm in length x 2.5 cm in diameter across the fundus. The systemic duct resection margin is distorted. The serosa is tan-pink and hemorrhagic. The luman contains a minimal amont of hemorrhagic bile and is tagged with numerous and irregular bosselated calculi, ranging from 0.2 to 0.5 cm in greatest dimension. The cut surfaces of the calculi show dark brown cores with yellow and friable peripheries. The mucosa is tan-pink, congested and hemorrhagic. The gall bladder wall measures 0.5 cm in average thickness. A lymph node is not identified. Representative sections are submitted in one cassette. the difference between Charlie
My Grandpa Charlie,
My father’s mother’s second husband, Would pull quarters from behind my ear And magic silver dollars in his empty hand. That’s all I remember of Charlie Other than Grandma loved him And he made me happy when they visited. There is no one left
Who might tell me more And the world cares little For a child’s precious memory. Lisa Jain Thompson
October 2008 making slow haste
Timestream
Time quickly merges
Into a calendarless stream Broken only by the sun’s Relentless set and rise. Day to day to day collapses
Into a twisting ribbon Of shifting planets and lunar phases Waxing and waning along the down side. Lisa Jain Thompson
October 2008 Microscopic Description:
One slide contains sections of gallbladder wall with mild diffuse chronic inflammation and fibrosis. The mucosal surface is ulcerated with areas of acute inflammation.
lying awake
Night Traffic
Overhead a police chopper circles,
Searchlight spotting straight down And slightly ahead, Looking for some would be fugitive Running in the night around me. Then silence.
No chopper,
No sirens, No lights, No warning to double bolt the door.
Lisa Jain Thompson October 2008
future past
Down the Highway
Driving down the highway, ‘Frisco to N.Y.C., Over the Sierras and the Nevada desert, Across the flats to the Rockies, sea to sea, Along the endless ribbon until at last I sleep. If I were to stop at some Mom and Pop
To linger for an afternoon feasting on Hand-made tamales and fresh enchiladas, I might find myself at journey’s end And never know what I might have missed. Lisa Jain Thompson October 2008 With neither gallbladder nor lyre
I wander too much time and not enough
Strangers All
Strangers all, we wander
Across these river valleys, Racing up the interstate Past the snow-filled peaks To descend upon the Deep chill of the emerald lake Overseen by the mated pair Nested atop the shoreline redwood. Shadow and glacier,
Moon and constellation, Laughter, tears, Sun and morning. Lisa Jain Thompson October 2008   © Lisa Jain Thompson 1995-2008.
Further distribution of this newsletter in its entirety is authorized. Email your letters and postcards or visit her contact page at the Starpoet website |
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