Tonight's Poet Corner: Food Poisoning

Food Poisoning
by Belinda Roddie

You have the cordiality to look concerned
as I hover over this basin of my own
creation, tortured by bad sushi and dark
chocolate and glasses of Amaretto.
You don't hold my hair back, but you do

place your hand against the flattest part of my
back - just below the arch, just below the curve,
just below the natural ridge of distorted flesh
disturbed by a fall on the playground. The bone
that cracked never quite healed right. I'm sure

you'd like to be anywhere but here, this
constricted porcelain space with recycled
porcelain air. No amount of perfume can fix
the stench of sweat and half-digested food.
I'm sure you think I'm drunk, but in truth, I

simply can't absorb the hedonistic pleasures
I once adjusted to as easily as fitting a plug
into a socket; nothing is grounded anymore.
It's all shaky limbs and beaded perspiration
like a chain around my neck and a half dozen

tiny knives perforating the mucus lining around
my stomach - at least, that's the sensation.
Agony in my abdomen while you remain calm.
Your hand soft against my back. Your hand
gentle against my back. Your face gentle.