This poem
Is in
Telemarketer voice.
You know,
The pre-recorded
Male-coded one.
The one
Who speaks
Really slowly,
In a deep,
Calming
Tone.
And at the end
Of each phrase,
It lowers
In pitch
Until you can feel
The soothing
Bass
Rumbling
In your chest
And you believe
That everything
Is going to be
Just fine.
I’m sorry about that.
I really am.
I’d use
My own voice
If I still had one,
But it’s gone,
Used up.
I talked
And talked.
I sent in
All
The proper paperwork.
But no matter
How much
I explained,
They still took away
My Medicaid.
So that’s it.
I can’t afford
My heart medication
Anymore.
But at least
I was told
In this low voice.
Relaxing.
Reassuring.
Reasonable.
-
April McCloud [she/her] is a 1% bionic human hailing from Rochester, NY. She’s a librarian, educator, and opinionated black belt who worships her cat and hopes to be reincarnated as a red panda. Her CNF work “Unpacking” has been released in The Black Fork Review and her debut novel is forthcoming from Rebel Satori Press.
-
Elise Scott writes from their lived experiences of fat-positivity, queerness, disability, mental illness, and moving through carnivorous shadows. Their life has been an adventure, from facilitating equine therapy for trauma survivors to counseling at-risk youth with the aid of an inordinately large sub-woofer and beyond, and their poetry has appeared in High Shelf, HerStry and Quibble among others. Their website is elise-scott.com.
