Ode to My Intravenous Catheter
The doctors tap the back of my hand twice
to bring out its blooming blue rivers:
come dip your toes in,
make yourself at home—
If I could pretend you can squirt out
seams of sticky spider goo
I’d feel superhero-ish
despite the hospital bed, its antiseptic scent.
But you are here
to pour me things that go right to my head,
my heart, my vital organs.
You are here so we can bypass
the elaborate process of eating,
digesting, excreting: no more fuss
over taste, over sensitivity
of the palate.
—if everything we need could come to us
without the use of a body—
O bringer of sugar & electrolytes, O wielder
of solutions, drip drip drip
into my veins,
deliver me from this stark world of solidity, where
in order to grasp the goodness of a bitter gourd
I am required to bite into one—
to bring out its blooming blue rivers:
come dip your toes in,
make yourself at home—
If I could pretend you can squirt out
seams of sticky spider goo
I’d feel superhero-ish
despite the hospital bed, its antiseptic scent.
But you are here
to pour me things that go right to my head,
my heart, my vital organs.
You are here so we can bypass
the elaborate process of eating,
digesting, excreting: no more fuss
over taste, over sensitivity
of the palate.
—if everything we need could come to us
without the use of a body—
O bringer of sugar & electrolytes, O wielder
of solutions, drip drip drip
into my veins,
deliver me from this stark world of solidity, where
in order to grasp the goodness of a bitter gourd
I am required to bite into one—
Vismai Rao's poems appear or are forthcoming in Salamander, Indianapolis Review, RHINO, Glass: A Journal of Poetry, Rust+Moth, Parentheses Journal, SWWIM, & elsewhere. Her work has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize and the Orison Anthology. She lives in India.
