The Unknowable Disease

Painting by Henry Fuseli


The Unknowable Disease

No doctor can diagnose my disease.
There seems to be no cure.
I drank herbal teas, tried acupuncture, visited witch doctors,
Nothing helped.

In my nightmares I feel uneasy, tormented,
As I watch an unknown face on a head
shaped like my own
Wearing a bodiless white smock,
Dancing around the room,
flapping white sleeves.

Last night, forlorn,
I went into a bar where no one know me.
I had on a white smock, started dancing
and flapping my arms.
No one in the bar knew anyone else,
but all became joyous,
Started dancing, flapping their arms.
What came out of my misery,
made the others happy.
I thought, perhaps, their happiness is due
To their not wearing a white smock.

Only one exception, a dark-haired girl,
Sitting alone in a dark corner.
She did not dance or flap her arms.

She sadly looked at me, said,
"I understand,
For I have the same disease.
No doctor can diagnose it."
She started crying.
The dancing and flapping accelerated.


Duane Locke

Posted over on The Beckoning