by Deborah Bayer | Mar 9, 2023 | Chapbook Poems, Poems, Poems (2004 - 2015)
Fertilizer: A Sonnet She plows the furrows, pushes past her wants. Can she imagine rows and columns, summed on spreadsheets as the basis for her work? Or, does she dig down to her ballet class, dance to Tchaikovsky all in lacy-white tulle stitched with plastic violets...
by Deborah Bayer | Mar 2, 2023 | Chapbook Poems, Poems, Poems (2021 to Present)
About This Poem: This poem first appeared in Juked in May 2021. The inspiration for this poem was two-fold. Part of it came from a freewrite about the white noise machines installed at my clinic. The other part came from a comment by the pediatrician in our...
by Deborah Bayer | Feb 23, 2023 | Chapbook Poems, Poems, Poems (2016-2020)
Death Rattle Back when five and dimes still made black and whites, I loved the cloudy bubbles made by pouring soda over brown-syruped vanilla ice cream. Today, the ShopRite-brand Dark Roast is bitter without complexity. I donate the open-but-full can to my...
by Deborah Bayer | Feb 16, 2023 | Chapbook Poems, Poems, Poems (2016-2020)
In Situ Even before I open my eyes, the light in them is orange, as red buds give way to masses of pollen and pale new leaves. The changing foliage makes a filter for sunlight through the glass: amber, pale green, then emerald. This tree and I have traveled a...
by Deborah Bayer | Feb 9, 2023 | Chapbook Poems, Poems, Poems (2021 to Present)
White Coat Lies Rain in November deepens depression, worsens all joint pain. On a scale of one to ten it’s an eight. The waiting room is full of dripping umbrellas. I walk to the front desk. The waiting woman sees me. Even my stethoscope disguise, my averted...
by Deborah Bayer | Feb 2, 2023 | Chapbook Poems, Poems, Poems (2016-2020)
The Heart Doctor A massive MI, myocardial infarction, happens on a plane from London to LA. The woman doesn’t know her distress is a symptom of her heart. The pastor says, lift up your hearts, and we say, lift them to God. Everyone else was amazed, but...
