Content warning: Depiction of medical practices, mild body horror as metaphor, and transphobia.

‘The Body of the Patient’

The body of the patient lies on the table like the body of a man: without
modesty or decorum. No bra need be discarded before
the MRI machine whirs and whirs and whirs. The whir
is not novel – it is always there. The hum
of the hearse engine, the flatlining of a heart rate monitor.
The body of the patient lies on the table like the body of a corpse:
unladylike posture owed to discs bulging and desiccated
between each vertebra. The body of the patient bleeds out
like the body of a dyke: wounds left to scar over. It does not
flinch under the sinking of the scalpel. It does not
wince at the burning of flesh. The body
of the patient lies on the table and they call it a woman.
They mark it “Miss Rose”
as if the flowers by the bed are all female.
As if the nurses don’t choke on their pollen
each spring.

About the poem

‘The Body of the Patient’ is a response poem to torrin a. greathouse’s ‘The Body of a Girl Lies on the Asphalt Like the Body of a Girl’, which in turn is a response to Illya Kaminski’s ‘Deaf Republic’. Just as greathouse’s speaks to the relinquishment of bodily autonomy through death, I intend to address the relinquishment of one’s bodily autonomy each time one is placed under anaesthetic. The poem operates – as most of greathouse’s poetry does – in the intersection of disabled and trans experiences, both which centre the body and entail the policing of that body.

About the author

Rose Power (ze/zir or they/them)

I am a 24-year-old disabled genderqueer lesbian writing on unceded Wurundjeri Woi-Wurrung land. At present, I am completing my Bachelor of Arts at the University of Melbourne, double-majoring in Creative Writing and English Studies. I also work in the disability support sector, running creative and social programs for disabled youth. I am passionate about speculative fiction, the power of storytelling, and intersectional liberation.

Photo by Mehrab Sium on Unsplash.