Apollo Chastain
Bloodwork
Khaki smell of old coffee oozing
between the waiting chairs, marked
to enforce distancing. Each “Patient”
allowed a “Support Person,” bruised
in blue on paper, Calibri font.
Terrible, the kindness
of receptionists: whose hair is always freshly
coiffed, whose nails are immaculate, painted
seafoam, rosé, colors of a Botticelli softening
the Rembrandt dark of the low-ceilinged
room. Terrible, so young to be alone.
Apollo Chastain (ze/hir) is the recipient of honors from National YoungArts and the Academy of American Poets. Apollo’s work appears in Poets.org, Diode, The Rumpus, and elsewhere. Ze is a self-described trans, cripple-punk poet writing for people who didn’t think they’d make it this far.