April 2026 - Vol. 23, Issue 2

I discover on my medical records

decades old stale osteopanini upgraded-

my bones deprived of estrogen

full of small holes like a good panini

have crossed the diagnostic threshold

from baseline DEXA 2016 to 2022.

From Ostepenia to osteoporosis.

They are full of nooks and crannies now.

Endo never told me my bones were fragile.

They kept it secret from me,

praised my weight-bearing exercise,

Prescribed high dose estrogen-patches,

treated critically low vitamin D,

but didn’t say I had a real problem.

so I’ll keep this secret from them—

I am becoming a bird.

My wings will develop any day.

Burst through my aching scapulae,

make useless the bilateral torn rotator cuffs

and instead of ever fracturing my hip, or

another compression T4–T6 spinal fracture,

When I fall, or crumple, I will hover inches

above the ground, preventing the fracture.

I’ll have gorgeous ravens wings,

black with oilslick iridescence,

I will take flight

impossibly hollow, a being of light and air,

held together only by words,

borne aloft from the hollows in my bones,

sit in almond trees in blossom,

nibble on blossoms,

be hidden behind the countless blooms

ripening and feasting,

take flight and never forgetting

my message matters

the caw against conformity

Black birds are rarely consumed

We are an acquired taste.

Let others treasure the ortolans,

with their foie gras oiliness

and “pain and delight” flavor

and a “wet crunch” single bite

We remember and are bolder.

We are never consumed whole.

I am a powerful vessel of pain and delight

We strange birds are the inedible feast in flight

and we will never cross your plate,

except to take the silverware,

your jewels, snatch your pearls

right from your dainty earlobes

as you picnic by rote and clothed.

You better clutch your pearls!