I write a few more months
An angel  drawn to the flame
the end of my life is calling

Angel mage  from the Look Show
by Leigh Kony

ALL DAY AND ALL NIGHT

Started the day with satisfying turn on our 19” high toilet
the tallest the plumber had ever seen checking in later
to see how we were making out and we’re both tall
our feet touch the floor. We’ve added a step stool
for that added squash. How to explain to hard-hearted
health professionals that many poops a day can be as normal
as the one poop a day recommended by my proctologist
who goes by a different name but today is not one of those
days when one delivery is all that’s needed. Many gifts
tall, short, fat, and slim none were shunned, even
those that turned out to be little more than a fart
but I don’t take those chances anymore my colon says
sit thee down sir, to let it rip, so much noise and the tiniest
matching turds I can hear the “so cute” chirping of the aide
de camp this morning. I speak no more of this mortification
All day and not a spot of diarrhea, say thanks to carrot cake,
porridge, fruit by hand and by knife and spoon sugar and cream
May my dreams be gentle and my guts empty enough
to stay off the pot until morning.

WHAT’S IN A HEADER

There are some common words and phrases used by journals and journalists. I keep saying someday I’ll write down, or is up better, a list. Today’s word is header. The head to the right of me by Murray Toews, inserted by a whimpering right shoulder because “we” will not be getting a shoulder joint replacement. It’s only a torn rotator cuff and I still have enough cartilage to make it work.

I can  barely stay awake. The word “header,” is used often in English and Continental football. Have you all runaway from me? England’s women’s team won the Euros Cup! The win was on shootouts, somethings else I might refer to someday, but surely not today. Atheletes and meditators are urged to meditate any least once a day along with the rest of , lets call them general population.
I first learned how this works for me in 2000, maybe a year sooner and I haven’t missed a day for 25 years. I sucked at continental football but enjoyed playing chesterfield rugby with my 1x. 

How about the header. Ideally it looks nothing like the picture here composed to my delight by  Murray Toews, and is the cover of my recent new book called, as you can see Always Breathe. In a more likely situation a football (soccer ball) is kicked toward the net and the other player on your own team if you are cbarging the goal, and the pass delightfully hanging in the air for less than a moment, in a twinkling of an eye your team mate passes the ball with his head towards the net. If agility and skill are on y0ur side your head receives your team mates pass, shot harder than necessary because you are not friends; but is  redirected by you into the opposition team’s net and y0u are a masterful hero!! No-one is more surprised than you. The stadium goes wild. You slide on your knees screaming, your fists pulled tight to your side. I have run out of useful cartilage, and my right shoulder just wants to be taped in a sling. So there. 

JUST A NOTE TO THE WISE

You asked for crepes
I wasn’t here
Nutella I said
maple syrup you said
ice cream ice cream
Wallace Stevens and
Jonathan Richmond agree.

Ice Cream (in the) absence
of heavy cream whipped
to a frenzy, Cool Whip

ridiculous but I did not write
Whipped Cream on the
list, neither lime cordial.

here you go pal
your diabetic wife’s
craft project not
withstanding.
Don’t get her basting
mired in your
crepe juice

or an angry
rhyme. Not worth
A dime not worth
just nothing you can do
Now. Eat. Die.

Hello, my morning

dove alights
marches April
into ground
glass day
breaks

FRENZY

Squinting, red film came over his eyes,
the first two to jump up were well known toadies
no menace but Captain Dennis, steadied himself
on their arms so. no harm would befall those in the ante chamber.

The good Captain had just caught his breath, when the door
to the banquet hall was flung open frenzy spilling through.
The good Captain managed to duck a spiralling bellow
history mimicking speeches advocating a revolution.

GROTESQUERIES

Let’s ask my belly how it grows
Enough to become its own in
Continence. Worry war
ts st. humble in from the stink
pestilence draws up tight
Rabbinical Talmudical
dead to rights, invention brings
Cohen sings there is a war
Cohen sings you who wish to conquer pain
Must find what makes you kind.
Roll up
the blind in cracks of sidewalks
Jesuits, protestant delights
light the fires as they chant
one potato two potato
one potato more the Irish
came feeding on lies the only
food refuges have to dream on
(Icelanders) bought it too
their bellies as empty, as mine
is full of Mennonite soup for the bread,
prepared shouting sup up your dread
step it up stomp it up until I drop dead. 

ALL DAY AND ALL NIGHT

1. Day
Started the day with satisfying turn on our 19” high toilet
the tallest the plumber had ever seen checking in later
to see how we were making out and we’re both tall
our feet touch the floor. We’ve added a step stool
for that added squash. How to explain to hard-hearted
health professionals that many poops a day can be as normal
as the one poop a day recommended by my proctologist
who goes by a different name but today is not one of those
days when one delivery is all that’s needed. Many gifts
tall, short, fat, and slim none were shunned, even
those that turned out to be little more than a fart
but I don’t take those chances anymore my colon says
sit thee down sir, to let it rip, so much noise and the tiniest
matching turds I can hear the “so cute” chirping of the aide
de camp this morning. I speak no more of this mortification
All day and not a spot of diarrhea, say thanks to carrot cake,
porridge, fruit by hand and by knife and spoon sugar and cream
May my dreams be gentle and my guts empty enough
to stay off the pot until morning.

2. Night (Weeks later)
Innocuous shredded wheat and bran 9pm milk
raises a ruckus from here to the where house
work is needed breath is needed scramble up
got oxygen I sit hang my head make up
bigger coughing fits, there is some elusive
shred of wheat alright, but it should not be
boxed to kill me, oh you hair trigger bull shit
my breath has real volume rattling I heard
saved for dying and that is not me I wheel
over to my wife who rises to listen to me
breathing she is quick to pound my back
as directed, and then listen closely front and back
the lungs, I have two of them but
they were severely tested a year ago.

I was poisoned one year ago. I aspirated my Sunday dinner
like the one we are having tonight yes, my snacks too
angering the nurse at one end of my body “if he pulls
through tell him he needs to chew his food” this I remembered
coughing apoplectically trying to catch my elusive breath
too much undone; you’re not welcome at table Dr. Death.

Coda:
LUNGS

I wish I could keep you wrapped in soft Jehovah leather
sacrificial sheep skin and wool shutter its stuttering

The third finger must specifically on the left hand
the right one too, sure but the pain forces my attention
to the third finger of my left hand I can feel the top knuckle
turn against me POW! it tells me and gives me 
the third finger run around I refuse to name the
music it wants to be can’t play a lick the song
running away butte no, this is aLL Too much
pain brings me down and wakes me up;
blanketed in clichés bottomed in blisters
reading too much Gertruder Stein before breakfast
but honestly, believe you me (There’s too much Kroetsch in my coffee)
my third finger twists my hand to the outside lewftywardas
gnarly fingers is what I got but let me tell you
my trop knuckle on my third finger is twisting 
but wrong left is not loose-y but tightened up
cartilage not just absent but leaving lumps opposite
myself I intend to die Oba jo but not only because
my third fingers, especially the lefty hurts me
ands wants to take me down in trouble the basemanyt
for a beating or a single shot suicide like
my non blood Uncled Jake, no sir, will do this all proper 
M.A.i.D here I come quick and quiet it only hurts
when I move gotta change my address the cheque
is in the mail my fingers will find it hard to open
my mother played among the caskets her father
built; a master carpenter blew out his appendix
back in the day, my mother sitting beside him
she was 14 he was 47 waiting outside on chairs
he built under him but softened with quilts
I am 70 and my finger hurts and yes Mother
I have pills for that. Enough now, careful
when you shave, dabs of tp on your chin
not a good look, even with blood showing

DEATH WITH NO BORDERS

Open my chest
Not like that!
Stupid! Put the knife
Away make like
(God I hate the word like)
Angel wings preparing for flight.

And now and now make room
And some more don’t stop
Praying, and if you don’t
Believe make a donation
Give and give again until

You are seething in the need
For surgery, here, there
And everywhere. You can see
So many torn bodies. After you
Are sewn up with magnificent stitches

You will see so many bodies,
organs ripped from their middles
Somewhere else we say,
Hamstring the media, we don’t
Want to see My Lai repeats.

Let it be (new) Somewhere else(but)
Take my money. Please, take my money
Enough to release my mind.
Leaving yesterday in Iran.
Let’s believe  in yesterday.
When Trump bombs in Iran.  

(It’s awkward as hell but I wanted to say something now.) 

I’m resting my surrogate toes, foot, ankle & shin,
my whole skit and caboodle. I was sitting, writing on my writing  desk.
My knee jerked hard enough to give my desk to jump and my lamp post beside me rose and then slammed shut.

It was worth waiting, I got the works, and the doc spent a lot of time Manipulating by left ankle, And yes there is a diagnosis of gout, ankle substation. It’s 7:45pm in thew evening. I am get nana dome. Try again tomorrow.  No ;eawasasss. done, ,can’t done mop, or  loee’