Oh little white oh of three a.m.
Oh invisible door oh lozenges of the skull and shoulders
Oh thumbs on eyelids, hardened pillows,
Oh flicker of tongue, oh hard to swallow oh dry oh heavy lifting dream 
Humble anonymous country of gray dawn windows
New mother holding her back, heating bottles on the stove
And staring at the cracked linoleum
Oh wail that will not be comforted
Oh Shop-Rite, Rite-Aid, Walgreens, CVS
Democracy of fluorescent lights and gray-eyed pharmacists
Cramp-shouldered truck drivers with long roads ahead of them
Two fried eggs over easy, sausage, grits with maple syrup, biscuits, pie
And coffee coffee coffee
Oh schoolteachers with thirty unlined faces five times a week times forever
Welcome to Western civilization
Anodyne, ibuprofen, alleviate America
Take a little bottle with you wherever you go

Bio: Alison Luterman