I am dyslexic and dyscalculic. These were the cards I was dealt at birth. No big deal. Just how I am. This poem charts my history.
MY LIFE IN LETTERS
for me bs and ds were interchangeable
one letter and its reflection I could fit wherever
this practice marked me a slow learner
word blind and spelling remained a mystery
my mother’s advice to break
down difficult words baffled me
for I never said them
like they were spelled
the thesaurus became my life preserver
as I looked up words of similar meaning
and hoped what I required was waiting patiently
amid the ranks and columns with its friends
the spell check facility of middle age
enabled spellings to be puzzled out
different combinations chanced
until the red underlining went away
secretly I still suspect those people
who demand rigid spellings
who fear the world of bespoke words
tailored to suit that unique moment
I've not much to say about this. It is mainly how it happened. It is from my latest collection The Wait of Water.
Here's Laura Gibson.
Until next time.
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