BENZO BRAIN by Martha Ellen Johnson

Benzo Brain #1 

[Lost.]

“It’s a chemical imbalance

in the brain.”  Ad copy from

Don Draper. I bought it. An

almost mouse scampers

across the floor. A Native 

woman with saucer eyes.

She’s nice. Someone in the 

kitchen plays You Suffer by 

Napalm Death. A firefly smiles. 

Who knew? Adorable. Doc 

says up dose for two weeks. 

Stars in the living room. Kurt 

Cobain hovers. “Hi. Miss you.”

“Mommy I can still crawl!” 

Benzo Brain #2 [a.m.] 

[Life review.]

henry tried to murder me// why did oma leave her baby on the street// tante hid babies from the nazis// rosie’s baby booties//uncle george died near bowling green// i hate the confederacy// i hate nazis// i love oma// i’ll write a poem about her// henry tried to murder me when rosie was a baby//i hate him// i love rosie// i hate mauve// i hate the word mauve// don’t tell me where to park// the gate scares me// why did oma leave her baby on the street// henry tried to murder me

Benzo Brain #3 

[No one sees the trail of bread trucks.] 

“Here’s a list of my

symptoms, doc.” I’m not

crazy. Look. I’m nice. 

See? I smile. “Your 

tests are normal.” I’m not 

crazy. “How often did you 

see Dr. Brown, dear?”  

I’m not crazy. EMDR. 

“You’re blocked. A dam 

holds you back.” I’m

not crazy. CPTSD. “Let’s 

try a little Klonopin.”

“Fuck you!  I’m not crazy!” 

Fuckin’ pieces of shit. 

Condescending, white-coat 

pushers. I hate you. help me

Benzo Brain #4  

[Rage.]

“Get out of my way!” Idiot.

“Where’s the wine aisle?” 

A woman stares. Fuck you,

bitch. Get in here, now! Get

out! Never come back! I

swat insects from my arm.

Boxedler bugs in Oregon.

Why not? Dead whores on 

Astor street. Smart girls with

temp jobs. Pay up and get lost. 

How to get under the ground 

near my sisters? 

Skye sells guns.

Benzo Brain #5  

[There’s only one way out.]

It’s dark. Hansel left

me alone. All men leave.

None have ever loved me. 

I don’t care. Pretty boys 

took all the gingerbread. 

Birds ate the bread crumbs. 

Someone whispers, 

“Don’t give up. I love you.” 

[I dig through horse shit. 

I’ll find the pony.]

TIME and PATIENCE 

arrive with shiny pebbles. 

Imaginary strong men 

swaddle me with cloaks 

pulled tight around. Easy, 

baby. Breathe. 5-5-5.

Benzo Brain #6 

[Despair.]

Grey dreams. Roaming.

Barren landscapes in a Dante

dusk. A breeze that does 

not refresh. “Dad? Is that you?” 

He looks away. I march on. 

“Why are you here?” help me.

help me. help me. help me.  NO.

My book of Haiku was only

dirty limericks. My iron

pans were bloody hammers.

Henry. Smiling. Guttural growl.

I can’t breathe. Daddy, I want to  

come home. I do not know 

where that would be. Parched 

earth. Broken stairs. Don’t fall. 

Benzo Brain #7 

[Terror.]

“Who is it!?” Axe murderer 

on my porch again. Run! 

Upstairs in the far closet 

under the clothes. Crouched 

on top of a pile of shoes. Maybe 

he won’t find me. I hold 

my doll close. I didn’t forget 

her. She loves me more. Shhhh. 

Is my breathing too loud? Maybe 

he can hear my heartbeat. 

I go deaf in my right ear.

An ocean roars in the left

and Minnie Mouse. Phone 

rings. I jump through my ass.

It’s Henry. Breathing. 

Benzo Brain #8 

[Keep trying.]

“Hi, I’m back.” At the ER.

Weak. Can’t breathe. Shivers.

Blood pressure stroke level.

IV. Alarm keeps going off.

ER doc saunters in. “You OK?”

“Sure.” More alarms. “We’re

looking for a bed in Portland.”

MEDIX. Mr Toad’s Wild Ride.

Pump me full of something.

If it doesn’t work, “a little 

electricity.”  Angiogram. “Wow.

Looks great!” No cholesterol.

Head cardiologist: “Your heart

is weak right now. We think it

will get stronger. [awwwww

Sweetie pie. Giving hope.] We 

think it’s stress.” [Not a virus?]

It’s the benzo, doc, the benzo.

Benzo Brain #9 

[Hallucinations.]

Why is the picket fence

undulating? The easels I

set up in the white room

are also undulating. They

never did that before. Flashes

of lightning on a sunny day? 

The yellow caution paint 

rises up to get me. I push it 

down. Asphalt repairs slither 

like snakes. Flute music in

the laundry chute. Words 

on the page shrink, fade and

disappear or they try to sneak

off the page. They think it’s

funny, but it’s not. I get even. 

Strange fonts. Italics. Line

breaks. Take that, little shits.

Nausea. I barf into a zip-lock. 

Benzo Brain #10  

[Pain.]

It’s brain damage. Arms

twisted against my chest. 

Fists with fingers twitching. 

Legs kicking all night long. 

Feet went numb with only

electric jolts at each painful

step. I’m Captain Ahab! LOL

Shiver me timbers. Shuffle. 

Stumble. Shuffle. Shuffle. Fall.

Can’t remember how to rise.

Aching jaw. Must be hidden

rotten teeth. “Nope.” A ghostly

pallor embraces my face. I can’t 

straighten my left knee. Hobble 

to the john. Piss on the floor.

Benzo Brain #11 

[Numbed out. Alone.]

I can’t subtract, multiply or 

divide. I can add using my 

fingers like I write a haiku. 

I stutter. I smile and pretend

everything is just fine. I show 

my last friend a photo from my

“Closed Doors” collection.

“It’s my favorite.” She looks at

me with pity. “Let’s go to lunch.” 

“I can’t.” Now she knows. I’ve 

descended irretrievably into 

madness. Gifts me her old 

phone. Leaves. I try to care.

Benzo Brain #12 

[Heaven is at hand.]

I am weightless, drifting

on the softest, fluffiest

cloud. I look for angels in

Heaven. Fr. Lance reaches

out his hand piercing the 

illusion of time, brushing 

aside the dust of death. I

remember washing his feet

on Maundy Thursday. I kissed

his hand on Easter morning.

Nothing hurts. I love you. 

Lead me to the rock, Lancie.

I awake sobbing. Have to pee. 

My right knee gives out. 

My mouth is full of gravel.

Benzo Brain #13

[Radical acceptance.]

I’m still here. I’m doing pretty good.

Don’t fall often. Stars to a minimum.

The doormat stays put. Remembering 

who I had been. Del Rey beach and 

hummingbirds. Was it Dale who loved 

me last or at all?  A broken woman. 

Wearing out a sofa. Day dreams. I 

chat with Betty, I think. She has pink 

earrings. And I have a new boyfriend: 

Sun Tzu. 

“If you wait by the river long enough, 

the bodies of your enemies will float by.”

……. all wearing white lab coats. 

2024