She shakes her hand, no
Visitors to lift her spoon
To wet her wise mouth.
hospital
Patience, patient.
If myself were distilled into
A test tube and held up to the
Light now, it would be two feet,
A bit of br ain between the ey es
And the ache where the lungs meat.
The rest is being kept
In another cabinet,
Access has been barred
And bureaucracy is quick
To thicken the dust on this key
There is the hope of everything
Being in that jar, housing
The organs I once owned.
The promise of wholeness, of
Complete myself, stowed away.
I’ll pay whatever it takes, I’ll
Take whatever works and spit out
Whatever doesn’t and if nothing does
I’ll smash the glass and let my guts
Mingle with the mud, set free forever.
15th of August is my new birthday
Today Bart’s hospital
Opened its doors
To my head at 7:30 am
To usher in a new
Gamma Life for me.
My scorched brain
Lives again, disarmed
Nose breathes
Teeth sing
Tongue taps
Its roof with pink.
Tonight my soul will
Shake its head till
Every hair winks
Wildly at the moon.
Thank you dear universe.
Being Every Day 