she says with a smile dot blogspot dot com

by the time i was called to read my own work, we were quite past our scheduled time, and so i was limited to reading only one short piece. this worked well for me, it was near 5pm, i had been there since 11:30am, absorbing all the stories (and one glass of merlot, and one cold beer).
i was too tired to read all 4 stories and 2 poems.

"let me cut right to the chase then.. and fulfill my humantarian role:

to make sure all women have vibrators and enjoy orgasms!" and then i read my "couldn't resist" blog post from last december. great fun and wonderful response.

after me, the hilarious david hardiman.. and then cynthia and selene

and i will have to write more on this later, because i am not at home with the book nearby for reference and correct spellings

***

sunday: to the century house for poetry readings. and what a treat that was! my introduction to jan steckel, the horizontal poet.

she explained early on, that because of a degenerative disc disease, she can walk, but not stand in one place for long periods of time. rather than not show, or endure unnecessary pain, she instead read her poetry while lying more comfortably on a massage table her husband had set up. she has a voice as beautiful as the words she speaks, and everyone seemed to respond accordingly. and i feel quite honored write now, because it turns out, my favorite among the poems she read yesterday, is not yet published. she just completed it that morning, and so it is not included in the book she brought for sale: the underwater hospital.

but she handed me the very copy she read from (doctor scribble at the top and everything), and granted me permission to post it here. "you are my publisher," she says to me. and i love this particular poem for a number of reasons, but number one being that it speaks to the need and ability for all of us to co-exist with discomfort and pain. not cure, not surrender, but co-exist. not run, not crawl, but keep going. and then, after a poetic story so many fellow humans can relate to (as either the endure-or/or well intentioned advice giver) she closes it with humility and humor, two of my favorite ingredients in any form of writing.

she was kind enough to follow up with an email, attaching the poem, so i would not have to retype. but as i explained to her - i will retype regardless. i appreciate a poem when reading it; more when hearing it; but deepest in the retyping of it. so here goes...

thank you jan steckel, m.d. ! i apologize i am not case-sensitive, but honor all line-breaks:

don't tell me

uh oh.

here you come scuttling up to the podium,
bright eyed and bushy-tailed,
aching to tell me your back hurt you once,
but physical therapy, cortisone shots, traction, hot tubs,
holistic medicine, psychotherapy, weight loss,
electrostimulation, counter-irritating balms, tens units,
surgery, fentanyl patches, chondroitin, glucosamine, fish oil,
or tincture of something illegal fixed you completely.

they didn't fix me.

please don't tell me how this particular chiropractor
whose name you want to give me cured
your back spasms forever, or how i've just got to try
the alexander technique, massage, meditation,
hypnosis, acupuncture, acupressure, yoga,
tai chi, swimming, pilates, andew weil,
exorcism, past life regression.

mazel tov. i already tried that.

don't, and i mean DON'T, ask me
to lay my hand on the affected part
and ask the good Lord to heal my pain.
i'm liable to want to lay my hand
on some part of yours, roughly.

when you ask smugly, "but isn't it worth trying
anything rather than stay in the state you're in?"
i'll repeat wearily:

"yes. i could spend the rest of my life
with leeches and cupping, drinking concoctions
of ground rhino horn and unicorn's penis that look
like pond scum and smell like sewer overflow.
i could spend my precious writing time
thinking only positive thoughts and surrounding myself
with only lucky, happy people, while learning
my blood type is the answer to everything.
instead of making love to my husband,
i could use that time to visit your hugging guru
or read that book you gave me

about how my pain is all in my head."

"but i'd rather not. thank you."

how could you dream that without even knowing me,
you could understand what is good for me better than i do?

i am fed up, do you hear me, fed up to here
with people whose well-meaning suggestions
imply that somehow my misfortune is my own damed fault,
or that i'm so criminally stupid that in eighteen years
i wouldn't already have tried anything
with a reasonable likelihood of helping me.

now get out of my face
with that bottle of mangosteen juice
before i smack you.

oh! you just wanted me to sign my book?
um, yes, of course.
i'd be delighted to.

~jan m. steckel, m.d.

http://www.jansteckel.com/
jan.steckel@post.harvard.edu