Not like this, the Death i’ve seen by Carolyn Srygley-Moore

the curly mind linguistically innovative poetry - weird & risky

not like this, the death i’ve seen: not like this. all day, weak, weakening i guess, i did not suppose. a steady weakness. (don’t hit it, my child says, don’t hit the deer, running silver like a travesty of justice) an afternoon, exhaustion, sun like conch shells singing in my ear, her ear. the nurse visits, blood pressure, temperature, says she’s ok, just weak, weakening, i guess. a week hospitalized tires you out, you know, a roommate’s news headlines blaring, the screams down the hall, the ear buds yanked from your memory. (i saw her, i say, i saw the doe) an afternoon, lilting falls of the chest, is she breathing, yes, yes, she is breathing, does she respond as i call her name, name. six pm i say hey, Beth, your favorite show is playing, Father Brown, it’s six pm, Sunday dusk, the shaded slats stringed shut, the small…

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