Lisa Mecham






Anger, pleasure, sorrow, fear all seeded
in the brain, in the amygdala
which in Latin means almond.
Wild ones, bitter, toxic
and sweet ones, domesticated, docile.
How we eat them by handfuls.
Deadly and desirable, all at once
like a clown crying a moon eclipsing a man
hanging. And my husband
who won me with wit,
calling from a bed in the hotel.
Exiled since the hospital.
Weeping, begging, then
Dread creeping across the line.
My neurons. I feel them, all over.
He whispers,
They want out.