light up my mind with emerald luminance.
saline drip, fracture the Unblessed wrenched asunder
slip into the railed bed, slide underneath the covers.
electrify my mind with medicine lupinous
snaking tubes and swanning compresses
reminding me of my terrible humanness,
reminding me of a body mutinous.
Lord, forgive me for the time I’ve monotonized
I’ve put you through much,
might as well have lobotomized...
when what to my wandering eyes would appear
but moonbox tintype of laquer and emulsion, my dear.
the color glances off the glassy eyes
and Lord, I swear it’s moving,
but no, its only my eyes crossed,
colors translucent down the nose, wonder lost.
no, no, my dear Max:
there is much to fear
but little of that is near.
enough of this machine-line rhyme.
if I cannot say this, no one ever will know.
would that be a tragedy?
strange malady when you’re all alone.
even more so when you’re death-prone.
the IV tubes drain the purple from my chest,
severed into a million red and blue beams.
it surely streams.
nothing remains as it seems.
Max, your form into my mind squirms
like a million alabaster-cold worms pressed into marble.
so much so the mind cannot help but marvel.