Not Gentle Enough: Notes on Polyembolokoilamania
The first time Dr. Y treats the young
woman inserting foreign objects into
her vagina: battery, penlight, bunch of
paper clips, he struggles to understand
her compulsion to fill voids, hates
admitting his horror, knowing he can’t fix
what he worries is broken inside
her. Should he apologize for the freezing
room, his cold hands, or wanting
to cover her with a warm blanket
when he asks her to change
into a thin blue hospital gown—
Maybe Molly is right when she calls
him a coward, Make up your mind,
Mitch. He winces imagining her
carrying his child. What if he has
a daughter, can he trust she won’t
become another woman in stirrups,
squirming on the table, fighting
back tears. He isn’t gentle enough.
Tammy Smith is a poet, single mother, and licensed clinical social worker from New Jersey. Her professional and lived experience in mental health informs her poetry, exploring the intersections of personal and collective struggle. Her poetry appears in ONE ART, Autumn Sky Poetry Daily, The New Verse News, Grand Little Things, Eunoia Review, Platform Review, The Writing Disorder, Oddball Magazine and elsewhere. She received honorable mention in the Journal of New Jersey Poets 2026 Poets Prize.
