Mend My Life
In the middle of hours, I walk out,
out of the clinic and into the rain.
My nurse’s round face
behind the front glass door worries
as I turn right onto Jimmie Leeds,
straight past the Seaview Resort,
down to the White Horse Pike,
east toward Atlantic City. Water
in the marsh crests onto the road.
No one is fishing off the bridges
as Ohio Avenue curves, straightens
to Bally’s, with copper windows
dimmed by clouds and fog. Inside
I cross the smoky casino, assaulted
by bells, lights, the thumping music
of Tower of Power, until I get to
the Boardwalk, to the wild gray
ocean, where the wind whips
my hair into my eyes. Pulse racing,
gulls laughing, I stand shivering,
exhilarated, no lifeguard on duty.
About This Poem:
- This poem was recently published in the Moonstone Arts Center 2022 Anthology of Featured Poets.
- This was one of the fantasy escape poems I wrote when I was feeling defeated by the practice of medicine.
- The title comes from a line in Mary Oliver’s poem “The Journey.”
- It’s also a poem of place. There are references to several iconic locations in the Atlantic City area.
- The Bally’s building holds a special memory for me. When my son was three years old, he accompanied me on my drive into Atlantic City. I would drop him off at daycare and continue to the hospital. He took a liking to the shiny copper exterior. He called it the “shadowy building.” He asked several times to see the inside of the building. When I finally relented, he was visibly disappointed. It was nothing like he imagined it would be.
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