Revision
for Amy
I felt like a doctor growing up.
My increasing vocabulary was written
on their charts, and displayed in the body
of my brother. They spoke
in clipped, nasal tones as if reading
lines for some television drama--
with a clinical distance I could never manage.
Hypotonia meant he struggled
to get out of bed each morning, struggled
to lift a tissue to his nose.
Degenerative meant we shouldn't be paying them.
He went to the doctor to get worse.
A human science project of weak legs
with metal braces, and weak lungs
with ventilators. It was irrational
but I thought of them as mad scientists
I kept waiting for the table to rise to the ceiling
and for him to ride the lightning.
Cardiomyopathy means even the heart
is a muscle that doesn't care
how determined you are.
These words have lodged in my throat
like marbles. I can't speak them,
and I no longer know
what they mean.
A life weighs more than bones and skin,
and two years is not enough time
to say goodbye.
~~~
Still thinking about some of Mark and Billy's points but adopted the ones that seemed obviously good
Original
for Amy
I felt like a doctor growing up.
My increasing vocabulary was written
on their charts, and displayed in the body
of my brother. They spoke
in clipped, nasal tones as if reading
lines for some television drama--
with a clinical distance I could never manage.
Hypotonia meant low muscle tone, that he struggled
to get out of bed each morning, that he struggled
to lift a tissue to his nose.
Degenerative meant we shouldn't be paying them.
He went to the doctor to get worse.
A human science project of weak legs
with metal braces, and weak lungs
with ventilators. It was irrational
but I thought of them as mad scientists
I kept waiting for the table to rise to the ceiling
and for him to ride the lightning back to life.
Cardiomyopathy meant that even the heart
is a muscle that doesn't care
how determined you are.
These words have lodged in my throat
like marbles. I can't speak them,
and I no longer know
what they mean.
A life weighs more than bones and skin,
and two years is not enough time
to say goodbye.
for Amy
I felt like a doctor growing up.
My increasing vocabulary was written
on their charts, and displayed in the body
of my brother. They spoke
in clipped, nasal tones as if reading
lines for some television drama--
with a clinical distance I could never manage.
Hypotonia meant he struggled
to get out of bed each morning, struggled
to lift a tissue to his nose.
Degenerative meant we shouldn't be paying them.
He went to the doctor to get worse.
A human science project of weak legs
with metal braces, and weak lungs
with ventilators. It was irrational
but I thought of them as mad scientists
I kept waiting for the table to rise to the ceiling
and for him to ride the lightning.
Cardiomyopathy means even the heart
is a muscle that doesn't care
how determined you are.
These words have lodged in my throat
like marbles. I can't speak them,
and I no longer know
what they mean.
A life weighs more than bones and skin,
and two years is not enough time
to say goodbye.
~~~
Still thinking about some of Mark and Billy's points but adopted the ones that seemed obviously good
Original
for Amy
I felt like a doctor growing up.
My increasing vocabulary was written
on their charts, and displayed in the body
of my brother. They spoke
in clipped, nasal tones as if reading
lines for some television drama--
with a clinical distance I could never manage.
Hypotonia meant low muscle tone, that he struggled
to get out of bed each morning, that he struggled
to lift a tissue to his nose.
Degenerative meant we shouldn't be paying them.
He went to the doctor to get worse.
A human science project of weak legs
with metal braces, and weak lungs
with ventilators. It was irrational
but I thought of them as mad scientists
I kept waiting for the table to rise to the ceiling
and for him to ride the lightning back to life.
Cardiomyopathy meant that even the heart
is a muscle that doesn't care
how determined you are.
These words have lodged in my throat
like marbles. I can't speak them,
and I no longer know
what they mean.
A life weighs more than bones and skin,
and two years is not enough time
to say goodbye.
The secret of poetry is cruelty.--Jon Anderson