Al McClimens
Sheffield, UK

Al McClimens is a part-time dosser, layabout and trainee poet. He listens to Radio 3 and misses the public library. He went to visit John Keats in Rome once, but he wasn’t at home that day.

Date poem was written or completed  27th March 2020

The Placebo Effect

‘Nothing else is.’

John Donne ‘The Sun Rising’

I blame the stars. Dis – aster. All princes, I.

Delusional. Please tick the box that matches

the frequency of your feelings of impending

catastrophe – hourly/daily/weekly/more often

or every time I shut my fucking eyes I can see

the blackness open like a mouth…sorry, I wigged

out for a minute. Soz.

                                        I’m on medication, y’know.

It’s a clinical trial. I asked to be on the intervention

arm. I mean, you may as well get the benefits.

We’re supposed to keep a diary of side-effects.

I have nightmares. Ugly, scary ones. I worry

that calamity will find us all asleep in our beds,

torture our dreams and slay our memories

as one by one the lights go out above our heads.