Wednesday, July 26, 2023

Tonsillectomy

Thom Bakelas
—Poetry by Tohm Bakelas, New Jersey
—Photos Courtesy of Public Domain 



SURGERY DAY

friday afternoon, surgical
center, tonsillectomy—
fuck this 
 
 
 

 
 
DISCHARGED

disoriented no more,
nurse hands me a script
for codeine—discharged

__________________

TIMELINE

two week recovery,
thirty pills given, no
refills—must conserve… 
 
 
 

 
 
THE LAST TWO PILLS 1

I consider saving them
for a rainy day, but
take both instead 
 
 
 
 


THE LAST TWO PILLS 3

dopamine nose-dive into
straight fucking madness—
everything feels good

__________________

THE LAST TWO PILLS 4

laughing at the silent thoughts
dancing inside my head—
I’ve lost control 
 
 
 

 
 
MY REALITY 4

last few meals: scrambled eggs,
black beans, mozzarella cheese—
I miss pizza

____________________

Today’s LittleNip:

AFTER EFFECT
—Tohm Bakelas

teeth gone numb, cat walks
my loneliness—robins sing
outside the window

____________________

Tohm Bakelas first visited us in the Kitchen on 11/18/21. He is from New Jersey; he says he resides there, and will die there. Tohm wrote today’s poems (and many others) while he was in the hospital having his tonsils out at the age of 33. He is the editor of Between Shadows Press. Welcome back to the Kitchen, Tohm!

____________________

—Medusa
 
 
 
  Tohm Bakelas, now healed



 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Don't forget the Ekphrastic workshop
in Placerville tonight with Lara Gularte.
For details about this and other
upcoming poetry happenings in
Northern California and otherwheres,
click on
UPCOMING NORCAL EVENTS
(http://medusaskitchen.blogspot.com/p/wtf.html)
in the links at the top of this page.

Photos in this column can be enlarged by
clicking on them once, then clicking on the x
in the top right corner to come back to Medusa.

Would you like to be a SnakePal?
All you have to do is send poetry and/or
photos and artwork to
kathykieth@hotmail.com. We post
work from all over the world—including
that which was previously published—
and collaborations are welcome.
Just remember:
the snakes of Medusa are always hungry—
for poetry, of course!
 
LittleSnake's Glimmer of Hope:
Two young deer grazing on
green grass in the shade~