KNEE BRACE PRESS

A place for stories about chronic illness, disability, mental health, and neurodivergence.

The Jungle

By 

multi-coloured floors, coded for low vision 
                        tropical flowers in bloom  
smooth brick under cane, slick wood, rough brick 
            tip-toe across the rickety foot-bridge piranhas circle underneath  
            Braille raised on banisters like gnarled tree trunks  
canes tapping sounds like nightmare-fueled insects  
guide dogs brush past sleek and silent prowling            panthers.  

“How was your summer            did you see her new haircut            where is Mr. B’s room?”  

Lockers slam like gunshots in the jungle  
the jocks cluster like lazy crocodiles by the water-fountain  
            eyeballing prey            nerds who scamper like warthogs to the safety of homeroom  dodging canes that curl around shins like anacondas  
a chorus of giggles erupts from the crowd like a flock of toucans taking flight  
popular girls preen like cheetahs in the sun            smiling, exposing canines.

Contributor

  • Tyler R. Harris is a blind queer woman from Dundas, Ontario, Canada. She holds an undergrad and a Masters in History from McMaster University and a Masters in Creative Writing from the University of Gloucestershire. She attended the Humber School for Writers where she worked on her memoir, “Something Someday,” with Canadian author Diane Schomperlan. She is currently doing her PhD in Poetry at the University of Gloucestershire — examining sexual awakenings from the perspective of a blind woman in a collection called “Read My Body Like Braille.” Her work has appeared in the University of Gloucestershire anthology “Unbreakable,” in Arc Poetry Magazine and on the Swim Press blog.