My Condition As I Received The Diagnosis

My Condition As I Received The Diagnosis / Josua Alan Sturgill

His face compassionate but grave, the physician 
approaches the bed where I am lying alone.  
He says the illness has taken over; 
there is nowhere free of the disease.

Your body's immunity has weakened slowly over time
and the infection progresses relentlessly, engines 
infiltrating even the remotest places.  
Mountain valleys flooded with the din of distant cars; 
over deserts, the heavenless drone of airplanes
saturates the sky.

But I barely heard what he was saying.
Weakened by the blandness of hospital food, dulled 
by the buzzy blinking of hospital monitors, I was, just then, 
trying to master the use of the remote as laughter

drifted over from the next room — laughter 
and the actors' voices from that new comedy series.  Possessed 
by a jealous curiosity, I nodded absently as the doctor spoke, 
but I wasn't listening.  
I was consumed by the thought
whatever they're watching, I have to watch it, too.

All poetry and supplementary material: copyright 2026 by Joshua Alan Sturgill. All rights reserved.