somehow we would.
love has her many strange ways.
THE DOGS
the dogs walk quickly down the sidewalk
in the sun and in the
rain and in the dark and in the
afternoon
the dogs quickly walk down the sidewalk and they know something
but they won’t tell us
what it is.
no
they aren’t going to tell us
no no no
they aren’t going to tell us
as
the dogs walk quickly down the sidewalk.
it’s all there to be seen
in the sun and the rain and in the dark
the dogs walking quickly down the sidewalk
watch them watch them watch them
with the eye and with the heart
as the dogs walk quickly down the sidewalk
knowing something we will never comprehend.
PART 3.
death will come on padded feet
carrying roses in its mouth.
COLD SUMMER
not as bad as it could be
but bad enough: in and out
of the hospital, in and out of
the doctor’s office, hanging
by a thread: “you’re in
remission, no, wait, 2 new
cells here, and your
platelets are way down.
have you been drinking?
we’ll probably have to take
another bone marrow test
tomorrow.”
the doctor is busy, the
waiting room in the cancer
ward is crowded.
the nurses are pleasant, they
joke with me.
I think that’s nice, joking while in the
valley of the
shadow of death.
my wife is with me.
I am sorry for my wife, I am
sorry for all the
wives.
then we are down in the
parking lot.
she drives sometimes.
I drive sometimes.
I drive now.
it’s been a cold summer.
“maybe you should take a
little swim when we get home,”
says my
wife.
it’s a warmer day than
usual.
“sure,” I say and pull out of
the parking lot.
she’s a brave woman, she
acts like everything is
as usual.
but now I’ve got to pay for all
those profligate years;
there were so many of
them.
the bill has come due
and they’ll accept only
one final
payment.
I might as well take a
swim.
CRIME DOES PAY
the rooms at the hospital went for
$550 a day.
that was for the room alone.
the amazing thing, though, was that
in some of the rooms
prisoners were
lodged.
I saw them chained to their beds,
usually by an
ankle.
$550 a day, plus meals,
now that’s luxury
living—plus first-rate medical attention
and two guards
on watch.
and here I was with my cancer,
walking down the halls in my
robe
thinking, if I live through this
it will take me years to
pay off the hospital
while the prisoners won’t owe
a damned
thing.
not that I didn’t have some
sympathy for those fellows
but when you consider that
when something like a bullet
in one of your buttocks
gets you all that free attention,
medical and otherwise,
plus no billing later
from the hospital business
office, maybe I had chosen
the wrong
occupation?
THROWING MY WEIGHT AROUND
at 5:30 a.m. I was
awakened by this hard sound,
heavy and hard, rolling on the linoleum
floor.
the door opened and something entered the
room which was still
dark.
it looked like a large cross but
it was only a beam scale.
“gotta weigh you,” said the nurse.
she was a big black woman,
kindly but determined.
“now?” I asked.
“yes, honey, come on, get on the
scale.”
I got off the bed and made my way over
there.
I got on.
I had trouble with my balance.
I was ill, weak.
she moved the weights back and
forth trying to get a
read.
“let’s see … let’s see … hmmm …”
I was about to fall off when
she finally said, “185.”
the next morning it was a male
nurse, a good fellow, a bit on the
plump side.
he rolled in and I stepped on the
scale.
he had a problem too, sliding the weights
back and forth, trying to get a
read.
“I can hardly stand,” I said.
“just a little longer,” he said.
I was about to topple off when he
said, “184.”
I went back to bed and
awaited the scheduled 6 a.m. daily
blood withdrawal.
something has to be
done, I thought.
I’m going to fall off of that
scale some morning and crack
my head open.
so at midday I got into
a
love has her many strange ways.
THE DOGS
the dogs walk quickly down the sidewalk
in the sun and in the
rain and in the dark and in the
afternoon
the dogs quickly walk down the sidewalk and they know something
but they won’t tell us
what it is.
no
they aren’t going to tell us
no no no
they aren’t going to tell us
as
the dogs walk quickly down the sidewalk.
it’s all there to be seen
in the sun and the rain and in the dark
the dogs walking quickly down the sidewalk
watch them watch them watch them
with the eye and with the heart
as the dogs walk quickly down the sidewalk
knowing something we will never comprehend.
PART 3.
death will come on padded feet
carrying roses in its mouth.
COLD SUMMER
not as bad as it could be
but bad enough: in and out
of the hospital, in and out of
the doctor’s office, hanging
by a thread: “you’re in
remission, no, wait, 2 new
cells here, and your
platelets are way down.
have you been drinking?
we’ll probably have to take
another bone marrow test
tomorrow.”
the doctor is busy, the
waiting room in the cancer
ward is crowded.
the nurses are pleasant, they
joke with me.
I think that’s nice, joking while in the
valley of the
shadow of death.
my wife is with me.
I am sorry for my wife, I am
sorry for all the
wives.
then we are down in the
parking lot.
she drives sometimes.
I drive sometimes.
I drive now.
it’s been a cold summer.
“maybe you should take a
little swim when we get home,”
says my
wife.
it’s a warmer day than
usual.
“sure,” I say and pull out of
the parking lot.
she’s a brave woman, she
acts like everything is
as usual.
but now I’ve got to pay for all
those profligate years;
there were so many of
them.
the bill has come due
and they’ll accept only
one final
payment.
I might as well take a
swim.
CRIME DOES PAY
the rooms at the hospital went for
$550 a day.
that was for the room alone.
the amazing thing, though, was that
in some of the rooms
prisoners were
lodged.
I saw them chained to their beds,
usually by an
ankle.
$550 a day, plus meals,
now that’s luxury
living—plus first-rate medical attention
and two guards
on watch.
and here I was with my cancer,
walking down the halls in my
robe
thinking, if I live through this
it will take me years to
pay off the hospital
while the prisoners won’t owe
a damned
thing.
not that I didn’t have some
sympathy for those fellows
but when you consider that
when something like a bullet
in one of your buttocks
gets you all that free attention,
medical and otherwise,
plus no billing later
from the hospital business
office, maybe I had chosen
the wrong
occupation?
THROWING MY WEIGHT AROUND
at 5:30 a.m. I was
awakened by this hard sound,
heavy and hard, rolling on the linoleum
floor.
the door opened and something entered the
room which was still
dark.
it looked like a large cross but
it was only a beam scale.
“gotta weigh you,” said the nurse.
she was a big black woman,
kindly but determined.
“now?” I asked.
“yes, honey, come on, get on the
scale.”
I got off the bed and made my way over
there.
I got on.
I had trouble with my balance.
I was ill, weak.
she moved the weights back and
forth trying to get a
read.
“let’s see … let’s see … hmmm …”
I was about to fall off when
she finally said, “185.”
the next morning it was a male
nurse, a good fellow, a bit on the
plump side.
he rolled in and I stepped on the
scale.
he had a problem too, sliding the weights
back and forth, trying to get a
read.
“I can hardly stand,” I said.
“just a little longer,” he said.
I was about to topple off when he
said, “184.”
I went back to bed and
awaited the scheduled 6 a.m. daily
blood withdrawal.
something has to be
done, I thought.
I’m going to fall off of that
scale some morning and crack
my head open.
so at midday I got into
a
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