October 27, 2010

Waiting room and hospital poems

Here is an excerpt from the Hospitalogy series, a collection of poems which has been published as a chapbook by my friend David Wolach. David was a performance artist for many years, but when he became seriously ill, he started rethinking his "somatic" practice--somatics meaning 'of the body'. David, at a recent talk in San Francisco, challenged us to consider how our somatics in daily life factors into our writing or can influence our writing process. (I used the prompt to journal about learning to use a white cane this summer.) David wrote poems from the Hospitlaoogy series during his stays in hospitals or during long waits in various clinics. Sometimes, he would ask his room mates to help him work on the poems.


--from Hospitalogy

Television Incision (Reflections on Drift, Sentence—Burst)

University of Washington Hospital, October 2008

Dear Static,

I heard you in the next room
A double room,

An epiself
An ikea idea:

The cars must have gone to bed

Times such as these [insert adverb akin to a slightly ambiguous sigh]
Times such as these is a loose nail,
Language is always

Facing a precipice, plank or wiretap.

Usually plastic maybe foam,
Sometimes oldworld metal and sin-
Function, your noises.

Read the rest of poem or check out David's blog at http://davidwolach.blogspot.com/