Category Archives: From the Writer’s Journal

On My Pediatrician

From the Writer’s Journal 5/16/83

I dream of my pediatrician, Dr. King. He sees me ten years after he has last given me a checkup. I am an adult, but Dr. King still cares about my health. He cares about my health because he has watched me grow.  He has seen me from just past infancy, to just past adolescence.

Dr. King touches me tenderly. He sees a mark on my body that bothers him.

He is concerned.

I dream of Dr. King because I want to be just like him. I want to be a physician, but I also want to be a kid.

Dr. King knows of my struggle. He knows of my existence.

Dr. King is a doctor who cares.

When in Roam

When in Roam You won’t find a room When in Roam You won’t understand the language When in Roam You won’t find a spot for your car When in Roam There’s no point in looking When in Roam You’ll never sit down When in Roam There won’t be a thing to eat When in Roam… Continue Reading

Neuroanatomy 101

(written during my first month of medical school) Brains, I look at brains Ridge and crevice I hold, I smell, I peak Into someone’s privacy Into someone’s past Into someone’s brain Tear and tear, I dig Rip off the outside, Filaments glare in white inside Like wildly growing fungi Lump and hill, valley and stream… Continue Reading

Brookalo

From The Writer’s Journal: (Original Entry: 1/1/94)   It takes place in another life, perhaps in one of those camps, maybe even a boarding school. There’s snow. When I first leave the museum, I can see the the ski slopes and a majestic sunset. This is Buffalo and Brooklyn combined and I’m living next to… Continue Reading

Saratoga

(From the writer’s Journal 5/5/91) I dream standing up Like a horse in a stall I’ve lost the ability to play guitar My hands have turned into hoofs My back still aches from being mounted with a saddle The race track is fast The dirt is firm The odds are 9 to 5 Against me… Continue Reading