two boldface plea-incentives adorn
the back wall of the clinic; I always
read them – a shibboleth – between
heel raises. There are others who
come here with turf in their shoes,
but I come here from hydrotherapy:
a graduate in warding off muscle
wasting. Today, I reverse the words
(MOBILITY RECOVERY) until the
mantra slides down my calf and hits
my cuboid: distributed weight. Then,
I reconfigure the decorative rep bait
into a tottering micro-poem:
(re)cover / (hyper)mobility.
I stretch the language, another type
of connective tissue: “(re)cover” as in (re)conceal, (re)insure, (re)balance,
or, worse, (re)bury. Double-booked
words becoming corporeal, again
I point my toes. Two sets of eight.

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Erin Latham Shea is a chronically ill and disabled writer, grad student, and Pushcart-nominated poet residing in Connecticut. Her work has appeared in the Vocal+ Fiction Awards Anthology, Ink and Marrow, The Mersey Review, and ARTWIFE Magazine, among others. She also serves as an Assistant Poetry Editor at Wishbone Words. You can find her on Instagram @somebookishrambles