The Worst Day Ever
I couldn’t breathe
in DC, suddenly.
Crimson blotches erupting on face;
lips swelling, throat closing…

Girlfriend’s face ashen
with combo of fear and shock
when she realizes this
is the real thing.

She holds my hand
en route to ER.
I focus on breathing-
in/out, deep.
Focus, focus, air…

Doctors avoid talking to me,
even though I’m bluer and bluer
by the moment,
clearly the biggest emergency
in that ER.

Girlfriend looks
more and more frightened
as I become more and more blue.
Inquires of doctors,
who inquire about my life quality
as if the increasingly cerulean hued woman
in the wheelchair couldn’t hear them
at all.

Girlfriend let’s go of hand
which I’m clinging to,
as if you can intake air
vicariously.

I’m alarmed,
fearful or what might happen.

“Be right back,” she says,
running down the hall.
Suddenly, I can breathe
even less.

I don’t know
she’s calling lawyers
who are stationed
in nearby hotel
where I bunch of
activist lawyers are stationed.

I5 minutes,
and a dose of epinephrine later,
I can breathe enough to return
to hotel.