HOME | DD

Description
Swallowing the Sun

Last night I walked in stars
searching for the right one as I burned,
little time to steal another, stuff it
in my corporeal pocket until I bulge,
slits of light slipping thru my seams.

Emergency room nurses push IV’s in my arms.
Flat on a bed with bars and no top sheet
I fight sleep in elevators
as faces flicker like candles on all sides.
Wheels echo down long halls, metallic lullaby    by    bye
By a small window in a white room a nurse rolls me,
pulls me, props me between more cold bars.
She holds my arm firm between waist and elbow
as if the limp limb will dart back down the hall.
Lady, it’s not going anywhere    where    where
Where's the damn vein!
With lips too numb to form words, my smile
jerks to a grimace, head slams the mattress with moans.
"Sorry, honey.  I hit a nerve that time.
Let me try the other arm."

She drew enough vials to know my blood
like an old friend from blood oxygen to drug level.
What?  Who wants to count cells in my white blood?
I fight sleep again without hot needles    needles
"Need to put her back on oxygen immediately."
A white uniform speaks quietly to mother
as hands fly up to the bag tree at my head.
"Haven't heard from the doctor yet, but it can't wait."
She works a tube into my nose as lungs squeak
open and closed, bellows wheeze at dim embers.

Next morning mother baths me
for the first time in twenty-three years.
Dietitian delivers a birthday cake I can't eat.
Finally alone, with a cold bed pan under me,
I grab bars and pull forward to peek in the mirror
at the wide-eyed figure staring back from behind
a blue gown, tubes, needles and sheets.

Restrained by heavy sheets and daylight, I wait.
Tonight I’ll run in stars and kick a few around.
I'll jump up ten feet to stuff moonlight in my pocket.
And tomorrow
I'll swallow the sun with my coffee and stale cake.

Description
Swallowing the Sun

Last night I walked in stars
searching for the right one as I burned,
little time to steal another, stuff it
in my corporeal pocket until I bulge,
slits of light slipping thru my seams.

Emergency room nurses push IV’s in my arms.
Flat on a bed with bars and no top sheet
I fight sleep in elevators
as faces flicker like candles on all sides.
Wheels echo down long halls, metallic lullaby    by    bye
By a small window in a white room a nurse rolls me,
pulls me, props me between more cold bars.
She holds my arm firm between waist and elbow
as if the limp limb will dart back down the hall.
Lady, it’s not going anywhere    where    where
Where's the damn vein!
With lips too numb to form words, my smile
jerks to a grimace, head slams the mattress with moans.
"Sorry, honey.  I hit a nerve that time.
Let me try the other arm."

She drew enough vials to know my blood
like an old friend from blood oxygen to drug level.
What?  Who wants to count cells in my white blood?
I fight sleep again without hot needles    needles
"Need to put her back on oxygen immediately."
A white uniform speaks quietly to mother
as hands fly up to the bag tree at my head.
"Haven't heard from the doctor yet, but it can't wait."
She works a tube into my nose as lungs squeak
open and closed, bellows wheeze at dim embers.

Next morning mother baths me
for the first time in twenty-three years.
Dietitian delivers a birthday cake I can't eat.
Finally alone, with a cold bed pan under me,
I grab bars and pull forward to peek in the mirror
at the wide-eyed figure staring back from behind
a blue gown, tubes, needles and sheets.

Restrained by heavy sheets and daylight, I wait.
Tonight I’ll run in stars and kick a few around.
I'll jump up ten feet to stuff moonlight in my pocket.
And tomorrow
I'll swallow the sun with my coffee and stale cake.