Mone D. Moore
Fifteen easy ways to heal
- Eat stale pizza on a Tuesday morning while writing a draft of your own will
- Sit outside of the doctor’s office twenty minutes past your scheduled appointment time; tell the receptionist that you got stuck in traffic
- Craft useless knick-knacks out of empty prescription bottles and toothpicks
- Sleep on the couch for thirteen hours straight and pretend that the imprint your body leaves will disappear by tomorrow
- Stay up until 4 AM watching infomercials; order a blender and then cancel the transaction the next day
- Pretend to believe the doctor when he says you’re improving
- Call your mother; let the phone ring three times before hanging up
- Paint the south facing living room wall “Cheerful Sunshine;” run out of paint halfway through and cry about it
- Take up knitting; knit a glove with six misshapen fingers
- Sit on the porch and watch the remnants of last night’s storm trickle from the gutter and into a puddle on the lawn while smoking your first joint; ignore the neighbor’s dirty looks as you cough
- Ask the pharmacy girl how her cat is doing
- Hide from the mailman and ignore the growing pile of boxes at your front door
- Choke down six saltine crackers before vomiting into the kitchen sink; drink warm tap water to wash down the sandpaper in your throat
- Lay wheezing in your bed as you stare out into the foggy night; count how many airplanes you see
- Exhale
[…] pieces from their latest issue include “Purgatory,” a short story by Carrie Simmons; “Fifteen easy ways to heal,” a poem by Mone Moore; “Kaleidoscope Eyes,” a poem by Shaiyke Jordan; and “Flesh and […]