NERVE

In the midst of a pandemic rage

April in Vienna and Lower Austria

I’ll fetch only food for my spouse

And myself, the papers and water

Imagine our water is disgusting

Forming a tan-leathery layer on

Kettles, taps and shower roses

Difficult to scratch off – my spouse

Calls micro-plastic coating.

But this April second – I noticed

Hardly anybody around – alone

Riding in a bus

Visiting my orthopedic surgeon

Receive a mask, disinfect my hands

Makes me feel hot and moist at my

Face –oh you disinfect your Sulphur

Yellow coloured floors?

“You have Carpal Tunnel Syndrome”

The doc says immediately

Having seen my hands and applies

An injection at the lower palm of

My right hand and will transfer me

O Lord! Another operation? Not

Possible now, in spite of muscle loss

At my thumbs and a galloping progress

Of blocks to my medial nerve.

I’m glad my trusted doc is around

To help as much as he can.

NERVE.EVREN

zoltanzelan

ZJG-POetry’20

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