The Last Frontier

Today, my son—

a man, no longer my child—

wore a coiled cap

of magnets on his

beautiful, suffering head.

Doctor Cartographer 

maps brain regions. 

Doctor Scientist

experiments with currents. 

Explorers of the interior, 

the last great frontier. 

Transcranial magnetic stimulation. 

The electromagnet painlessly delivers 

a magnetic pulse that stimulates nerve cells 

in brain regions involved in mood control 

and depression.

My understanding is a fistful of fog,

a mirror of mist that will not clear.

Like a child, I make up stories

to brush the clouds from my eyes. 

Doctor Captain

steers the foundering vessel,

charts in his log

the pull of the tides,

the reach of the moon,

as if willing the forces

to straighten the bent,

right the wrong.

To ease, to ease, to ease.

This, after endless seas

littered with 

therapist receipts,

medicine vials, 

treatment program brochures,

mother’s tears.

A fourteen-year odyssey.

To ease, to ease, to ease.

Hope, a schooner

sailing into the horizon. 

Published in Dunes Review, August 2022