Losing a lover is like
losing a limb
or a necessary organ;
take whatever drugs you want
to ease the pain,
it still hurts like hell
in the morning

Taking a new lover is like
another transplant:
the dose of anti-rejection drugs you need
just grows and grows.
And as the skin thickens
it takes a harder push
each time
for the needle’s point to pierce your cover;
and each drop of blood seems redder
and more precious
than the last
until you decide
at last
that the payoff is not worth the pain
and you consign that part
of you
to an oblivion
that is not complete
to a decision that is not whole-hearted
to a diagnosis that hurts
like a lover leaving.


4 Responses to Triage

  1. Judy Clem says:

    This is heart–wrenching. i miss your poetry and the OLD utne cafe. The new place is a shabby sustitute and they have no idea what they lost.

    • jakking says:

      Hi Judy! So nice to see you again! I haven’t been to the Cafe in a year or so/ I sure do miss the poetry group.

  2. The Little Woman says:

    Judy, I sure hope you check back here. I couldn’t get through to your email address on your blog. Anyway, have you ever visited There are regular poetry contests, weekly slams, entries into larger board contests. We’d love to have you stop by. You’ll see some folks you know and you’d be most welcome.

    Sherry King

  3. Judy Clem says:

    Thanks Sherry! I will indeed. I could use all the motivation I can get. Great to find ya’ll.

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