Sunday, October 23, 2011

Takes weeks to make poems
out of pain and fear and hunger and thirst

Everything steeps

The unimportant seeps away

Two nurses getting married within the month
Sparkles on fingers
One asks: What makes it last?
You answer, LOVE. And add, kindness.
Such a wistful smile.

The one who's wife to a dairy farmer
who takes blood wonderfully
saying, people are easier than cows
Who borned all but her first
at home:
Also easier than cows.

Meds in the early ayEm. Your name?
Susan Sarandon.
Laughter sounds so good at two O'Dark.

Saturday, four days without food/water
How fine applejuice tastes!
Day five! Puree: chicken, carrots and potatoes
No Thanksgiving ever better.
The last day, you ask for take-home
and the perky aid, white shirt/black pants and apron
brings black foam boxes. You say how good she looks;
she smiles: Some say too good! Like waiters.
True. But isn't that's what is wanted?
A red carnation would be nice.

The front spaces, foyer, halls, rooms
very like a mall. Upscale at that. What visitors see.
One could pray not to see the rest.
Or one could. And be glad.

17 October 2011

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