September 30, 2012

poem 352 of a poem a day for 2012

paying the ferryman to Samhain

the madhouses
scream loops
of laughter
in broken mirrors
they look
for hollows
in our eyes
they say
come crash
in the waves
the sterling suicides
of reason left alone
at some bedside
artificially kept alive
with the wrong kind
of puppetry
you say
sometimes it is
the kind of pour
that empties
every pocket
to a vacancy sign
of bones
a do not resuscitate
bar code
to a chart
that hangs near
the sterile curtains
and fluorescent light
ringing you
deaf, dumb and blind
with attendant needs
preventing you
from seeing
the outside world
looking inside
your hospital gown
and with morning
coming later
and later
when you finally
do leap in
feet first
shoe laces tied
you do so
without being
on somebody’s dare
of you
to swim
across apathy
one more time


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