GIVING A PATIENT BAD NEWS

 

 

It is time for her to change, after so much unchanged time.

Time for unfixing this crafted beauty and for unsexing her

long pale body into the gutter spit of folded memories.  

It is a grim burden to unglue her glued molecules

into mere specks of red, brown and blue.

 

I too am unfixed and imperfectly unfolding

over the neoteric shoreline of hours.

I; And I am speaking; alone; vomiting; hurting.

Bacteria swim in my brain and eat my cells.

Go ahead then and eat that collection of cells which

was my first car, eat my youthful mother, eat this girl's

pretty painted toenails.  I don’t need them anymore.

Feast on the cells, they are my gift to you.

 

I am unwinding into small red and purple molecules

and swelling with the unknown testimony of disease.

I am unwrapping onto a thirsty board near

swimming tumors which climb out of the

cytoplasmic quickwater as gray nails to pierce me.

 

I am unfolding despite the desire to protect her.

It’s  raining in my trash filled, squalid thorax.

My liver is rotting and cowering under a fence.

 

There is no one to help us anymore, no one

to help me drink my morning coffee anymore.

 

I stare out of a whiskey window in silence.

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                     --Published in La Fenetre