Howard Stein
in memory of Ashley Montagu, Touching: The Human Significance of the Skin (1986)
the yearning
to be touched
by hands that mean it
by hands that want to touch
the longing for hands
to release the skin
from solitary confinement
Ronald Lands
His hand-carved pipes still lean
in their rack like a row of saxophones
and fill the room with memories
of black vinyl records, Glenn Miller’s band
playing “Chattanooga Choo Choo,”
a kitchen match scratched
across the bottom of his shoe
Judson Scruton
                    Expectant, bound, I wait
for the robotic arm
          to deliver
                              intense radiation
                    to cancerous prostate.
                    The probing eye of the radial arm
searches for my marked gland
          to the soundtrack of my choosing–
                              gentle waves, then pounding surf.
                    Where am I? What am I?
Muriel Murch
I leave the bed softly
so as not to rouse you
and am in the bathroom before I remember
you are not here.
And yet.
It is the sound of your breathing
sung from memory
by the wind in the
Amy Odom
Like an old Atari video game I attack the folders in my inbox
Successfully devouring each power pellet placed in my path
Gulp, gulp.
Faster, faster.
Pushing to the finish line where husband and kids are waiting.
I am anxious to hear
Sarah Nitoslawski
T-cell lymphoma in the brain
MRI flooded with glaring, white-hot streaks
Devouring cerebellum and frontal lobe
A scrawled note in his chart:
“difficult and disinhibited
Neurology–please re-assess”
At the sight of our starched white coats
He reaches shakily for the
Alexandra Rosenberg
1. (PHQ-9: Screen for Depression)
“Depressed? Course I’m depressed.
My wife died ten years ago.
My son? Well…
He does the best he can for me.”
2. (DNR)
“What’s that you call it?
In-tube-ate?
No ma’am.
No way to
Anne Vinsel
Tears in the operating room are different from tears cried by civilians, by veals.
There are rules.
A single tear from one eye is unobjectionable.
Two tears, either one from each eye
          or two from one eye
          are permitted if they are unaccompanied
Blaise Allen
From this view of your ear
I see folds of fissures,
curves of shell washed
clean by briny tears. I see
Three delicate bones of
middle ear: malleus, incus
and stapes, the smallest
bones in the human body.
I
Francesca Decker
“You drew a perfect circle!” she exclaims.
I nod and smile as I explain,
“Yes, well, thank you…
And now this circle is a plate.
Half is vegetables.
A quarter is starch or sugar.
A quarter is protein–meat, dairy, eggs, or
Kendra Peterson
July first Fellow,
a pager blares announcing
my initiating consult, a 29-year-old
(just my age)
malignant melanoma
and a first-time seizure
while receiving an infusion
of experimental treatment.
When I arrive
she’s already gotten
two milligrams of
Martin Kohn
         1.
No cold plums
just the leftover
chocolate ganache
that we left in the fridge
and which I falsely accused
you of eating
Forgive me
as I lick
the sweet plate clean
and look for a magnet
© 2024 Pulse - Voices from the Heart of Medicine, Inc. All rights reserved.
