Before attempting to write

I imagined typing with my right hand

and holding a bottle of Xanax with the left

I wanted to see if the collisions of pills

within this marmalade bottle

could provide the background music

to a backdrop of dim lights and rodents

Whether I’d be that beatnik

in a state of panic who can

write through the rattling

of tablets against this plastic

or the bongos reverberating

in the acoustically gifted

parts of my brain

is uncertain when I

just need to get some sleep

I’ve been in positions

where my first instinct

was not to write

while holding a controlled substance

like a baby on mother’s nipple

The first trauma an infant experiences

is the disconnection of the umbilical cord

after being welcomed into the world

And whether my solar plexus healed is one thing

but have benzos been my milk this whole time?

-Jack M. Freedman (Jacob Moses)

-Published by Marias at Sampaguitas (2019)