"some falsehoods come easily. you know the ones. my neighbors were dying, my friends, my siblings."
photo by Alexa Lemoine
TC Kody lives in Orlando. Their work has been published in Dream Pop, Voicemail Poems, Button Poetry, Rising Phoenix Review, and many others. They have yelled and yawped all over the United States. A Best of the Net Nominee, Troy won the first Poetry Slam Incorporated Online Slam and is the uneditor of Rejected Lit. Yes, they would like a hug.
"on lying in order to be allowed to sell plasma" that summer, you know which one, was the first time I lied to get a needle in me. no currency then, whole blood, donation without euphemism, an entire city flooded with platelets and bandages.
some falsehoods come easily. you know the ones. my neighbors were dying, my friends, my siblings. so I lied, marked boxes with a pen whose ink barely flowed.
some falsehoods seem too trivial to speak- did I go to any of the following countries? yes, I marked once, without thinking, when I was younger and more comfortable. I went on a list for 3 years, and I was still on it then, and they turned me away.
some falsehoods are too difficult to sell. the best paying company requires its “donors” to have proof of employment and address, and so I move on.
others come easily. you know which ones. they test it anyway, so I lie. I need, so I lie. I pass, so I lie. I am not as man as I seem, so it is not technically a lie. no, not even once. And I eat of groceries paid by my own blood like a solipsistic Christ.
it does not hurt when the machine takes blood, or when it shakes the plasma from it. but when the red pumps back in, it is so cold in my veins.