m

OLDER

READS

RINGS

D-LAND

GUESTBOOK

So, the other day Trusty and I went to an appointment. It was at a county office, so you'd think it would be plenty accessible. You'd think, but you'd be wrong. We struggled up the entirely to steep ramp and shoved and grunted our way through two awkwardly-positioned glass doors to schlep down to the waiting room. We didn't have to wait long before we were called into our meeting. The woman had to move a chair out of her tiny office so that me and my pet wheelchair would have a place to sit. We answered some questions. We signed some forms. We asked some questions. We listend to the woman praddle on. Then, she did it.

"We'll need a printout from the Social Security office as proof that you're disabled."

The woman was sitting there. Right in front of me. Still winded from rearranging furniture to accomodate me. Looking at me, telling me she needed a paper from an agency who knows me as nothing but a number as proof that I am disabled.

I'm surprised she didn't ask for a printout from Trusty to prove I'm a female.

design by fergie

Bits of fire in the sky push me east back home. I used to live in flames but it's hard on the wings. Choke me. Smoke me. Scare me back. You try but you just can't. I peel the layers in my spare time, and you're easy to see through. I can fly, I've discovered on my own. I may be the lesser butterfly but my wings are just as strong. Who are you to tell me to find a place to land? I may be the lesser butterfly but baby watch me glide.