Transcript
Micah Kielbaun (0:00)
Next.
Unnamed Speaker (0:00)
Hey, it smells so good in here.
Unnamed Speaker (0:03)
Yep, that'd be the coffee.
Unnamed Speaker (0:04)
I know, it's just I've had nasal polyps for so long. Now I'm on this medicine and my congestion and breathing are much better.
Unnamed Speaker (0:11)
Dupixent Dupilumab is an add on prescription maintenance treatment for uncontrolled chronic rhinosinusitis with nasal polyps in adults and children 12 years and up. It can help shrink your nasal polyps so you can breathe better with less congestion.
Unnamed Speaker (0:22)
I'm pretty jazzed about it. Plus, I don't want another surgery and now I might not need one.
Unnamed Speaker (0:28)
So what can I get you?
Unnamed Speaker (0:29)
Medium coffee, please.
Unnamed Speaker (0:31)
Severe allergic reactions can occur. Get help right away for face, mouth, tongue or throat swelling, wheezing or trouble breathing. Tell your doctor right away of signs of inflamed blood vessels like rash, chest pain, worsening shortness of breath, tingling or numbness in limbs. Tell your doctor of new or worsening eye problems like eye pain or vision changes, joint aches and pain, or a parasitic infection or asthma. Don't change or stop steroid asthma or other treatments without talking to your doctor.
Unnamed Speaker (0:53)
Do more with less nasal polyps. Ask your doctor about Dupixent.
Unnamed Speaker (0:56)
Learn more@dupixent.com or call 1844 DUPIXENT.
Major (1:01)
Hey, it's Major. Today's episode is hosted by our very own Micah Kielban. Hang tight and I'll be back on November 25th.
Micah Kielbaun (1:16)
I'm Micah Kielbaun, and this is the Slowdown. I'm writing this just after getting off the phone with my best friend of 23 years. I'm in one of those moments where I need my oldest friend to sit on the couch next to me while I feel so we bought her a plane ticket for this weekend. She bought the one to come here, and I got the one to send her home. It felt a little ridiculous. Ridiculous. I worried my request was a bit overreactive, but we both agreed this is why we work to do stuff like this. Today's poem excavates the hard route to self love. But it also shows us the trick that self love doesn't happen all alone. Forgiveness Rock record by Tawanda Malalu and where should I find myself if not in my mother's eyes or my father's hands, or my sister's care for the world? And if I should die, I should die, because that is the way the world was designed. And what was the thing that drew me up from myself? As if a river flowed upwards towards the pull of the moon and would you not want me to be a tide song called for constantly by the mere fact of rock, large white above, asking you to be real by virtue of movement, of its heaviness regarding movement, and to be seen as a slow tragedy of the sun's shadow. I am asking for this life to call for me. I am asking myself to call for the acceptance of this skin, its predispositions navigated keenly by eyes which aren't my own, by histories pieced and unpieced together by various arguments of human, sometimes even of love, like watching those that were born before me decide they were this thing called human and summoned themselves. What is there beneath the rock? Is it as heavy as the rock itself? American cartoons said that the moon was made of stinky cheese, I thought, marshmallows, or of another sweet, I cannot recall, that bursts into powders of soft sugar upon biting it. Or maybe it is the cautious marble of a jawbreaker so large that my sister and I stored them in the fridge and licked them over the curve of days leading up to some other sort of awareness. Somewhere along the line she is wronged, touched it might have been then I couldn't see, didn't see, she's older. I was greedy, and eventually its big sphere would soften to a pearl, its wrapping finally larger than the thing it held. Maybe, dear moon, what I am asking of you is to become this sun, or vice versa, or why can't I sleep for as long as I used to? It is not that I don't want to be alive, he says convincingly, but that there is a calmness of constant possibility that sleeping affords, that to be woken so early, so constantly now by my body, as if he is begging me, really begging me, to change my life, to not reach the age of I have wasted my life to say to itself that I have a life to say to others. I want to be in this world, to really be able to hear the words I love you and I want to be with you and you're a good person and people like you and you're beautiful and not want to instantly retreat to some question of how unlike the moon is to the sun, son, but how they hold one another, even if one is nearly always disappearing. Yes, that's what I wanted to hear myself, as if I were another person in another's mouth, as if that were what it is to live. Okay, so maybe it was. The Slowdown is a production of American Public Media in partnership with the Poetry Foundation. This project is also supported in part by the National Endowment for the Arts on the web@arts.gov to get a poem delivered to you daily, go to slowdownshow.org and sign up for our newsletter and find us on Instagram @downdownshow.
