Fall 2009 / Issues / Poetry 2009 / Volume 40

Analyzing Throat Sensations — Jason Bradford

Occasionally, on hot, humid days like today, except, not today, I feel like I have a rubber cork lodged in the opening of my lungs, which is ironic because lungs do resemble wine bottles, only slimy and squishy. You think it would hut too, but no. It’s more like a feather tickling the throat, but … Continue reading

Fall 2010 / Issues / Poetry 2010 / Volume 41

Trouble Breathing — Jason Bradford

Like Beethoven’s motive in Moonlight Sonata, asphyxiation is a common theme in my life. I’ve suffered pneumonia twice, an ailment no one should know how to spell before 8th grade, hospitalized both cases. I’ve fought bronchitis numerous times after my scoliosis surgery to correct the 90 degree curvature of my spine. A concept no one … Continue reading

Fall 2010 / Issues / Poetry 2010 / Volume 41

She Holds Me In a Vial — Jason Bradford

I wanted to be a vet, said the phlebotomist when I asked if she always dreamed of drawing human blood: like a Pollock of phlebotomy existed. Animals make better patients, she continued, they don’t cry, while scratching around in a drawer for the butterfly needle needed to perform my venipuncture, since neuromuscular diseases cause muscles … Continue reading