You Can’t Earn Medicaid

Celeste Rose Wood
Featured image: Sonder Seclusion 3 © Faizan Adil 2019

 

Frankly, my throat is closing over with clouds;
it’s one of those days when it rains inside me,
the precipitation beading on my tongue. Lately, bad mental
health is working windshield wipers, the
care they take in revealing — squeak — revealing— squeak,
entitlements that may be revoked, entitlements
that disabled people may not deserve because we
are only wisps of smoke in place of fingers curling impotently into
the ghosts of our palms. Frankly, though, I know it’s a
big lie that my Medicaid issue air bags should go to other
drivers whose engines are not guttering candles. I am
of the opinion that fire doesn’t eat the inertia of curtains just so
our neighbors can look into us and count our
debt accumulating like the urgency of their resentment.

[This acrostic uses a quote from former House Speaker Paul Ryan during an appearance on a radio talk show in 2017: “Frankly, it’s the health care entitlements that are the big drivers of our debt.”]