Sunday, March 29, 2015

Basilisk Boy Redux

Basilisk Boy Redux


You have a great smile
The nurse says
As I walk into the clinic
Her tone tuned to a frequency
That is accustomed to frequently
Relaying bad news

I am an intruder in this
Hall of needles
Defiling this anti-septic
Sanctuary with my
Hypochondriac anxiety

Sensitive to the ritual
Of point plunging into plasma
Pulling out my blood
Less like a test
More like a dark ritual
To some passover god

For the next few days
I am living in the shadow of this virus
Counting back possible exposures
Refusing food -- unsure
If I would be eating for one or for two


Today is a day that the basilisk hath made
The news slithers into my inbox
Emissary of those needled halls
The result earth shattering

Negative - You are Negative
You are not yet the King of Serpents
That crooked crown may not rest upon your head
You are not a walking epidemic
Your breath is not miasma
Your blood is not acid

You no longer have to walk
In the shadow of this virus
Disease is not your destiny
No revolt lies waiting beneath your skin

The ritual is complete
You have been passed over