Ushered White Waiting [An Excerpt]
swing down
rope lantern
, clicks,
into a viral musical phrase
in waiting
behind an unpainted window,
the white light spreads, tossed
over
the nerves secured
as hands
become tender in cut
haunting, damned love.
an ushered white waiting
along marble linoleum, six&seven chairs…
single burn at the ceiling
spray of a passing. is, is not.
inescapable ey, waterlids, bid for anything, thing. freeze
reel
to reel. mother, please speak for me
i-cannot-speak-as-you
my fault. mine. not his.
he is here, the one who reads from
r i t u a l s.
hello, are we together right now?
spin spin my heart father
can
i
take
your arteries? can i take them for you?
crash, white
the doctor and rib crack of electrical push: told this, told this…
dad: after: you pulled respiration from lungs…
crash
flashwhiteflash streak, smudging who is this now, brother?
do not ask about the after.
my mother’s hands are up, are up against swollen features…
what does your face appear…
grandpa
untying buttons
a year after his wife gone, alone to be woken
to a son’s tense, fraught at twoa.m.
dad son
dad son what can i?
the one who reads rituals stands
and leaves, will he read now?
will he read
for you, dad.
waiting in white momentum. mom. my fault. mine
my fault
missed the emergency room. in the car. in the passenger seat.
his
skull falls between the seats and eyes
white
white and and white and
opposite of the emergency, opposite
and
we at the pulling hard of doors and chains and
where
and where and masked man in truck
stilts words, pointing
lady
behind the desk
she was the lady behind the desk
on the telephone
holding pause single finger
dropping
his body
onto the ground, to be rolled onto gurney but too big, too big
his body yanked into wheel chair
and ushered in and ushered
eight minutes oxygen deprived, clear. i, not a widow yet
(13)
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