Poet’s Corner: The Lyme Song of B. Afraid Burgdorferi


April is the crawlest month, bleeding …

Let us go then, you and I

like patients peroxided upon a table

(I should wear white flannel trousers

— twit, twit, twit —

to the beach)

“Hurry up please, it’s Lyme”

In the rooms women come and go,

talking of their target O

Shall I part my hair behind, do I dare …

Have I known them all, pinned

and wriggling?

Dr. Tiresias turns a blind eye:

“I had not thought deer had undone so many;

Hang it all, man, if I haven’t measured

out my life with coughing goons”

And yes, I’ve been told, I’ve been told

I shall wear my trousers rolled

with permethrin.

“Hurry up please, it’s Lyme”

Anaplasmosis. Babeseosis. Ehrlichiosis.

Doxy doxy doxy
Wayne K. Greenwell lives year-round in West Tisbury, and has had his one-act plays performed in New York City, Seattle, and Vineyard Haven.