THIS IS A POEM ABOUT HOSPICE 4.25.17

Will you pull the plug

she asks,

when i am sick

she says,

will you prevent my suffering?

yes, i say, anything.

but she does not believe me.

i am transparent to her,

she knows what i care for

and how much i care for it,

she knows, for her, i’d chop

off limbs. mine or someone else’s,

it don’t matter, whatever the situation

calls for. For her, for her.

 

Written at 10:53 at night, in my bed, in Agoura Hills CA , before watching The Night Of.

 

Leave a comment