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May 2020
the health (MIND|BODY)

the body is atrophying,
rising from the bed is an
exercise in handholds,
and wall grabbing, no falling failure

my whispers in the bed
of imminent death go
unheard as somewhat
desired, but not entirely, unsure, unsure

the blood don’t circulate
fast enough, streams slow
to sad songs Pandora has
accumulated and plays on, and on, and on

<*>

mind run by rivulets, fear floes,
courage-drowned, easy stuff
impossible, hard, beyond pale,
drowning in self-disgust and, hopeless

every deadline passes, dying,
easygoing no screaming, the
minimal, hard, beyond the pale,
the poetry is untraceable, untranslatable

the easy out is steps away,
illusions are illusory, delusions,
are stories you tell for amusement,
dreams are practice runs, for the long run

the poem words die on the vine,
scorned silence, best is past,
appropriate ignominy ****** iced,
so it goes, no minyan for the funeral, no ten
Written by
Nat Lipstadt  M/nyc
(M/nyc)   
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