16 Jul 2013, 2:12pm
Writing
by

leave a comment

the paramedic has a blue hat

in the cul-de-sac by the quiet ocean
making my car run
far from penance
I don’t see your house anymore
or know which space you’ve moved to
whether it’s a good one
I hope it’s a good one—though who can say
of what goodness consists
I’ll drive through the cliff if there’s a hole
the universe could be foam around

a month since the SCARE OF MY LIFE
when my son nearly died
my son nearly DIED
where was my false modesty and calm demeanor then?
where were you      shaking me, wake up wake up
      from the bad dream
it is awful, that coldbluecoldblue skin
my mouth couldn’t blow any air in
there was my daughter doing chest compressions
my wife yelling for him to breathe to breathe
and I couldn’t think of anything except
this will be my last memory of my son

what happened to change that I can’t say
one minute he was there in distress
and one minute he wasn’t
simple as that
nonchalant, backwards-wearing hat of a universe
I have nothing for you but my middle finger

I won’t talk to a priest about this
I won’t talk to you
though you’d get it, you’d understand it

I just wanted to say that you should be more careful
and change your diet
and take your pills from now on
etc.

and don’t fall
because nobody will be able to help you
not even if they want to

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

You may use these HTML tags and attributes: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <strike> <strong>