Friday, May 9, 2008

Numbers Adding

He's drank a lot of that tea. I bet I've made him
six of those today. It's good. He likes it with
lots of ice to cool him down. He's so hot.
He sweat right through his
clothes last night. Is the window
open? Here, take off
his socks. I was rubbing his feet
earlier. He seemed to like it. Is
the window open? He wants you to do
it. He asked about you the other day - asked
when you were coming to see him. He
remembered your first and last name.
Is the window open?
Everything is over there in that machine now. That's
all the medicine he takes. They took
him off everything else. She showed
me what to hit when he needs more. Is the window open?
We brought in that TV so he
can watch it. He hears
everything. If you say his name
he'll open his eyes. Is
the window open? Let me go
get my sister. This is her house. She
knows how to open these
windows. I tried earlier but I can't get
the locks undone.

This is Ken and he died. I was here in this room. I heard everything and tried to remember it all from the last time I saw him. It was last week but it's in my head all the time now. I thought I would try to write it, but it didn't sound like this. I can hear the voices but I can't put them down. The room was hot and it smelled like a dying man. Now the windows are open. They always were. Curtains pulled. Wind coming and going. I carry you. He looked like a pharaoh at the funeral.

1 comment:

thirdworstpoetinthegalaxy said...

Beautifully done: open windows, epitaph, and all.