Once, More Than Once and Slurring

Huffing and puffing, Dr. Frye arrived
late in the evening to visit Northridge Hospital.

Frey would worry about my tragedy, already learning
my brain had dropped it, lost.

My ability to speak properly, gone.
It was my aphasia in “outer space.”

How could I know anything anymore?
How would I know what to say?

Repeat, how would I know what to say?


Colleen kept asking me a question
and when I answered, words were slipping,
me slurring my language.

Maybe I was tired, blurring my words.
My mumbling meant
some of me was missing.

So, here my words answered,
but not thinking aphasia meant “missing.”
I didn’t know it then, knew nothing at all.


Image:“ABirplexed” by Dan Buck, licensed under CC 2.0.

Eloise Klein Healy
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