Three Poems – Ollie Schminkey

hospitals

it started as a small dot, no larger than a 12pt letter.
then it grew, the blind spot, to encompass
the space of my entire left eye, and i looked
in the mirror, saw a one-eyed creature and wondered
if this made me a myth. 

and no, i did not stay unseeing forever. i grabbed
some carrots and a kiwi and my sister drove me 
to the hospital, the buildings’ grey blur becoming just grey.

and then, i had to pee, and then, the women’s bathroom,
and then, the birth name, and then, the nurse asking
me if there’s any chance i might be pregnant, 
and all i wanted to do was take a splintering chomp
of my carrot and mutter
i ain’t so much as looked at a dick since the summer of ‘84
then wink, slice the kiwi, drink, the blind spot growing,
the nurse’s sweet baby face blurring into the fuzzy abyss

and then, the ‘FEMALE’ on my wristband, all caps, 
like, anyone could see that shit--  
what business did they have assuming my blood’s name