TWO POEMS BY KYLA JAMIESON

Kyla Jamieson is a disabled poet and the author of the poetry collection Body Count. Her writing reimagines time, embodiment, care, and intimacy in the aftermath of a brain injury.

PAIN IS A SENTIENT ENTITY

no, you wouldn't know by looking
as if looking is knowing                                        
                                        —Teva Harrison

pain watches my body from another planet
transmits dialogue as radio signals
plays my body like a marionette
everyone believes is actually me
look, she's kissing her partner
look, she's washing the dishes after dinner
whatever it looks like I'm doing
know I'm doing something else
know pain is my most intimate relation
the one I’m always dancing with
even when it looks like I'm on earth holding
my own hand or moving my fingers
across the keyboard to write a poem about pain
like I know anything about it
like pain would allow itself to be known in language
like the vessel would be permitted to perceive
the mechanism of controlTHE INTAKE QUESTIONNAIRE FOR THE PAIN CLINIC ASKS IF PAIN HAS PREVENTED ME FROM HAVING A FULFILLING LIFE

All year the line between inside
and out has been hard to cross
but spring opens the gate.
I hear the sun calling. I hear
the magnolia tree down the block
calling. I go to the tree. I go
to the grocery store for coconut
I Left My House Today ice cream.
I think I see an ex waiting
in the line outside when I leave
but she has a mask on and last
I heard lived in another city.
I don’t want her to see me
because I don’t want to go back
to being the person I was
when she loved me. I want
to keep who I am now
despite my deep exhaustion.
Time reinvents itself so often
I forget I’ve always lived
in this body, on this planet. Inside,
I fantasize about going back
to the patio chairs in the middle
of the still-sunlit street and calling
Libby, but after climbing the stairs
to our apartment’s front door
I need the couch to hold me up.
I’m so used to shedding
my ambitions that it almost looks
graceful when I do it now. In all
my daydreams I have the energy
to call my friends. Rest my body
in a river of their voices.