Anne Marie Ward
Creative, Editor, Researcher, & Writer


Collected Poems

Depression Nap with Kristin Dombek

  • Anne Marie Ward - The Ampersand - December 2018

Popped pills prescribed

months ago for

Wisdom teeth complications,

Unexpected laughing gas due to rotting sockets,

Unexpected mask strapped to my face,

Unexpected because it was only a little pain

And only a little blood,

Only for just a few months after,

But all just to sleep in the afternoon

without the hard work of winding-down.

Out like an old bulb,

With the filament rattling around,

Making a tinny noise as

you check for viability and become sorely


To awaken hours later,

The sun still squeezing through the blinds,

The light dripping down the walls.

Forehead sticky with bad-sleep fever,

Feeling dulled like sparkling water gone


Irritated like eczema that crusts

Over the middle knuckle

of the middle finger

And spreads down,


Unable to remember remembering

If there was a sense before this mutiny,

Like when leaves turn before a storm

And the air curdles.

“For our friends we should remember

when they think they’re stuck with sadness forever...

But mostly it’s a blank,”

A blackout,

A spattering of brain matters:

“like women with babies say labor was.”