April 23, 2026 - 13:16
One of my favorite poem's of hers was the Beighton hyper mobility scale because I read the poem before any others and actually even the tile of the book or poem and I immediately knew what she was talking about. It was a funny little moment of connection. I excitedly flipped back to the title page of the book and saw hyper mobility and then flipped back to the poem and saw the title and just felt a bit more excited to read through the rest of the poems. I wanted to see where our experiences overlapped and how they differed. In what tiny moments we were the same.
my little haiku from class:
Rabid raccoons, semi
trucks, ice picks and base ball bats.
Why am I attacked?
context: these are words/frases/imagery I use to describe my pain sometimes and I realized how violent they always are. It was a little jarring.
I hate doctors. I
am trying to be one. I
don't read the text book
context: the last line is what my mom would say whenever I got sick because I always had one extra odd symptom or was missing a crucial one. She's a pediatrician so she'd joke I hadn't read her medical texts books and that's why my body didn't do "sick" correct. It's also serves as a reminder of how I want to be different as a doctor