i feel the pulse of their remembering
as they read "non compliant" in the folder
back, in dna memory
to the day when i was the village sorcerer
and when things went well
they brought me presents
and when things went bad
they burned my hut down
and left me for dead
i watched their fires
and i guarded their camps
and i dreamed the dreams
that led them to the next vistas
and i also set them off
irritated them, annoyed them
i was an allergant
so i take their pills
to make them feel better
just to make that nervous stare stop
and that snappy glance to the folder
away from my eyes
oh why is it that when they look at me
they are not really seeing me
their eyes are glassy
and they are stuck in a code
in some passage they read
about rapid cycling
and mixed state psychosis
never mind the cold
and pms and that i am on sudafed
nevermind the factors that would make
anyone act a little agitated--
then comes the assembly line treatment plan
i list my goals in five minutes
so it's set in stone
for the government
i tell the government
in their paperwork
that i wish to walk again
that i wish to heal
that i wish to make it to my appointments
i am not non compliant
but here i am on that treadmill
and here they are adding
yet another pill