The college in Detroit where I taught for twenty years is closing for good this week. As I’ve been reflecting back over my experiences there—twenty years is a long time—one event in particular stands out.
It concerns a sequence of eight poems I wrote, titled “still inside.”
I originally wrote these back in 2007. Every so often when I give poetry readings, I bring these out to read because they’re among my favorites. After all these years, I still find them tremendously moving, and my audiences usually do, too.
The poems are monologues written in the voice of a little girl who suffered, as the poems describe, every kind of bad luck a child can have.
The sequence is based on the situation of an actual little girl. The basic events in the poems are true—a baby was born as a twin, but suffered life-altering hypoxia because the medical staff didn’t know there were two babies and she stayed inside her mother too long. She was born into a world of poverty and disregard.
That much is true. The rest is “truly imagined.”
(As Marianne Moore said, poets should create “imaginary gardens with real toads in them.”)
My stepdaughter is an attorney specializing in rights of the handicapped, and she’s the one who told me about this girl. The third poem in the sequence mentions an attorney who steps in because the little girl’s regular lawyer wouldn’t release enough money for her proper care; my stepdaughter is the one who intrudes to help the child. (The other attorney said to her, “What are you, an avenging angel?”)
The story of this little girl affected me for a long time, until it moved and saddened me to the point where I felt compelled to give her a voice that the circumstances of her short life had denied her.
I felt I had to bear witness to all she endured.
But I didn’t just want to focus on her sadness. My grandson Jamie was also born with a number of severe handicapping conditions, and everyone who came into contact with him during his own shortened life was profoundly transformed by his loving nature. I wanted to imaginatively imbue the little girl with some of Jamie’s indomitable spirit as a way of counteracting all the misfortunes of her life.
I had always thought these pieces could form the basis of a multi-media project consisting of words, music, art, and dance. I showed them to one of my friends and colleagues, Geoff Stanton, when we were both teaching at the college. Geoff is a phenomenal composer and musician, and he jumped at the chance to compose music for them.
The result was a stunning series of eight songs using the poems as lyrics set to music for two voices, piano, and cello. We presented them as part of one of Geoff’s annual concerts, and I was thrilled with the way they turned out. I’m including the poster for the event, left.
(As I write this, I don’t have a recording of the music available, or else I’d include a sample of that, too.)
As these things go, I haven’t moved my multi-media plans forward. Perhaps at some point in the future they will come to pass.
Until then, I offer this sequence in the hope the pieces will affect you as much as they continue to affect me.
still inside
by Donald Levin
i
another one
no doctor saw my momma
before we came
no exam no test
no money no thought
for another waiting
when it was time
it happened so fast
at the poor people’s hospital
my sister came quick
but after she was born
nobody knew
i was still there
awaiting my turn
quiet as i ever was
they turned away
to bathe and weigh the new one
and while i was waiting
i ran out of air
in the dark channel
of my momma’s narrow body
and it wasn’t till later
when she started screaming
that the nurses and doctors
caressing my sister
ran back
and discovered another one
still inside
and they did what they could
but the story of my life
was written by then
ii
absence of air
hypoxia
the doctors called it
to explain why my sister was good
and i was the bad one
right from the start
which meant no walking
or talking for me
though i could understood
what people would tell me
if only to hum in reply
and i did try to smile
if i thought it would help
which wasn’t often
though i cried at the seizures
that made me go stiff
and roll my eyes
and afterwards whimper
till i fell asleep
the medicine made me so
dizzy and tired
couldn’t see either
no sight in my eyes
except shapes and shadows
and the flashing lights of seizures
the only things i could see
retarded, they said
which probably i was
since i couldn’t learn
the way my sister did
who was always quick
even when she was born
she was the first
and i was last
iii
the house we lived in
momma bought with the money
they gave her for me
at first a lawyer handled the money
but wouldn’t give us enough
till another one made him
we never could have had
such a big house
there was supposed to be
a ramp and special bath
but momma never had it made
used the money for sofas
i was not allowed to sit on
so i couldn’t ruin them
by drooling which
i couldn’t stop
and she bought the other children
clothes there were two more
after me and my sister
so i stayed inside
for most of the time
and when a nurse came
to care for me
which wasn’t often
i was clean and dry
but when nobody came
i had to wait for gramma
who watched me when momma was out
but she didn’t always remember
so i stayed in my diaper
till it got so heavy with wet
she couldn’t lift me
or turn me over
when she finally remembered
so i had to stay still
inside my room
in pants that were heavy and wet
till someone remembered
and came to take care of me
but i was patient because
i was already such trouble
my momma told me
iv
school
when the bus came to take me
every morning
they would strap me inside
in my wheelchair
so i wouldn’t bounce
on the trip to school
with the driver and an aide
who cleared my throat
if i needed it
and when i got to school
my teachers were so happy
to see me
when they rolled me off the bus
they’d take my coat
and change my pants
and my teacher who is very tall
held my hands to say hello
and later they all sang
good morning to you
good morning to you
and sang about
my bright shining face
which i had because
i was so happy to see them too
every morning i also saw
my friend zach
who was in my class
and who liked me too
our teacher wheeled us together
so we could sit and hold hands
even though we couldn’t see
we felt each other’s hands
which were both crooked
because our muscles were so tight
but the touch of our fingers
twisted together
kept us warm
till it was time to go to music
which i also loved
v
momma always wanted
to be where she wasn’t
before we bought our house
we lived in different places
and she always wanted to be
someplace where we weren’t
when we moved to the city
from the town we were born in
she wanted to go back
to our old home town
and when she went back
at night to meet friends
she wanted to be back
inside our new big house
and when she was with us there
she yearned for jamaica
where she came from
she said she never was happy
since she left jamaica
if she had stayed there
she said her life would be
completely different
she must have been right
because i never remember
seeing her smile
or hearing her laugh
except when her friends were around
and i thought she must have
lots of friends
in jamaica
to miss it so much
vi
on valentines day
one year i got to eat chocolate
which i never had before
i never ate by my mouth
always got formula
through the button in my tummy
when i tasted the chocolate
i couldn’t breathe
gramma called an ambulance
momma wasn’t home
and gramma had to stay
with the other children
so I went by myself
to the hospital
they said i couldn’t breathe
because i was allergic to
peanuts in the chocolate
they gave me medicine
which i was also allergic to
the doctor gave me something else
that worked this time
and i could breathe again
so he sent me home
but i couldn’t breathe again
at home my throat closed
so i had to go back
in the ambulance
the doctor wanted to put
something in my throat
a little hole
an always open o
so i could keep breathing
but he couldn’t do it
without momma’s permission
and nobody knew where she was
so the doctor called the lawyers
in charge of my money
they must have said sure
go ahead then the doctor said
well you know
this will be permanent
it’ll mean round the clock care
from now on
it will mean a nursing facility
it will be pretty expensive
i just wanted you to know
he listened
and hung up
and told the nurses
who were holding my hand
her trust won’t fund the care she’d need
let’s try something else
he sent me home
with a machine
to suction my throat
and now when the mucous
collects in my throat
i get suctioned
if anybody’s there to do it
the lawyers must have said
they would pay for it
but somebody has to remember
to suction me
which doesn’t always happen
and i wind up coughing
until i can spit out the mucous
and sometimes i can
but sometimes i can’t
and i just have to lay there
and cough and cough
vii
sailing
my momma didn’t want
nursing care for me
didn’t want people around
telling her how to take care
of her daughter
but once when a nurse came
her name was nancy
she took care of me for a while
brought a big boat
and hung it from the ceiling
i couldn’t see it
except as a blur
but she described it
it was different colored ribbons
like a rainbow
with sails so big
when the breeze blew in
when the windows were open
in the warm weather
nancy said the boat would float
back and forth like a real boat
sailing on the waves
of the ocean
and after the company
nancy worked for took her away
to care for another child like me
who they said needed her
more than i did
she left my boat
hanging in my room
and when i laid in bed at night
waiting to be turned over
i would think about the boat
waving in the breeze
and pretend i was the captain
sailing around the world
on my boat of colored ribbons
and everywhere i went
people would wave
and clap as i sailed by
viii
still, inside
though everyone did
the best they could
i was not to live long
scoliosis twisted my spine
like a cane’s bent handle
in my fifth year
and as it curved around itself
my organs compressed
till one day
my lungs couldn’t move
enough air
and all my spit pooled
in the back of my throat
and i inhaled it
and got pneumonia
a speck of mucous
was all it took
hidden like a grain of sand
in my chest
the bright red ring of sickness
pearled around it
and because i couldn’t rise
or blow it away
the infection overwhelmed me
and the fever
made my seizures so bad
i couldn’t breathe at all
and before anyone knew
to call the ambulance
i died
but at my funeral
everyone came to say goodbye
momma my sister my gramma
the rest of the family
the lawyers and doctors and nurses
who took care of me
and i could feel them all
standing crying
over my coffin
as i lay still
inside
©2019 Donald Levin