Drawing at Aurora Psychiatric
The valley I have sunken to has pictures
of turtles hung up, and dandelions, too.
The walls say, “Be slow like us.”
The walls say, “Scatter your wishes.”
I am balling up my fists at the pictures
and yelling at them under my breath.
This valley is small and I don’t want
to wake my neighbor.
There are other people in my valley.
One has a black eye.
There is an old woman who calls
a young man pretty.
She yodels and bellows her frustration.
In my valley, there is a nurse who looks
exactly like Niecy Nash.
One of the members can’t wait
to go back to school.
She studies engineering and
ice skates on the side.
Another wants my pickle at lunch.
The pretty young man calls his coffee “cafe.”
There is a woman who wears
shorts in a Wisconsin January.
One valley member has me
drawing her a butterfly.
Another one wants sketched roses.
I don’t know why it’s so easy
to draw in the valley.
Maybe because it’s not
infinitesimal anymore.
Maybe it’s expanding.
Maybe the valley isn’t so bad.
Maybe some scattered wishes
are coming true.
For now, I’ll color my bath mat.