Ode to My Good Master

Andrew J. Stone

I’m not starving
or wandering the streets
and spending money saved on substances to forget
I might no longer have time to cook or eat but I have the ability
and that is the freedom you provide

I’m not bleeding
even though I cannot bend over in the shower to scrub my feet
even though I am probably addicted to opioids
even though the stabbing sensation in my lower back keeps me spiraling all night
even though the plastic, backless chair I sit in eight to ten hours a day
is pure agony and
even though my work causes my carpal tunnel to flare like the dead forests in California
I am not bleeding and that is the freedom you provide

I’m not afraid
even if I consume antidepressants like aphrodisiacs
even if I haven’t seen a friend in over a month
(aside from you)
even if sometimes I think
maybe I’ll go swimming in the ocean after work
wilt under the weight of the waves
accidentally swallow cold sea water
accidentally swallow grains of sand sprinkled on my towel
let the sun burn my skin till it blisters red
read the novel I always forget at home
but then I remember what it means to work
what it means to stay overtime
because you ask you say you really need me
and how could I refuse after all the stability
you have blessed me with
after all the opportunities you have gifted me
to afford antidepressants and oxycodone
to afford future outings with friends
to afford hypothetical beach days
this is the freedom you provide I thank you yes