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