Do No Harm 


Some quiet Adirondack place,
some childish accident.
Little by little, I will no longer disguise
the very roots of our existence:
                                          I had to turn into art
                                          somebody thought they could sell.
          Make good.
          Take it.

How fast the world slips.



I forgot any long disease.
Ten years ago we lived in a house
with deer’s heads on the walls;
                                                we never did disappear.

A great deal of doctors wrote the same thing:
                                          What provoked this wire act?
         Ill health.
                    Best wishes. 



Erased from F. Scott Fitzgerald’s letters to Zelda Fitgerald’s physicians during her treatment at Craig House.



Elizabeth O'Connell-Thompson lives in Chicago, where she is the Literary Coordinator of the CHIPRC and a Poetry Ambassador for the Poetry Foundation. Her work has been published in RHINO, Banshee, Front Porch Journal, and The Best New British and Irish Poets, among others. Her chapbook will be released with Dancing Girl Press in late 2017. Get in touch at EOTwrites.com.