End-of-life Situation
i was on a bus from nc to nyc, and while passing through newark, i happened to look out the window and see a man sprawled in the middle of street beside a stopped car. there was a police officer there with a flashlight. i couldn't tell if perhaps the person had been hit by the car, or if the person was alive or dead, but i wondered really hard what would be going through the mind of a person somewhere between life and death. and then i wrote this poem.
An angel (I guess) stands
over my shoulder
training his flashlight on my face.
Does he mean to wake me, to blind me?
Did my pupils dilate? I have lots of small
guilts pumping through my valves:
I neglected to take out the trash
this morning. I argued with
mother and cursed her in my mind.
I drank from the juice carton upon
waking today, lips and morning breath
direct on the spout; stole
envelopes and postage from
work.
Shall I walk on into the light?
They say the true devil is an angel of light.
They say the true God is a God of light.
This angel, posing, training over my shoulder
Who sent him to me?
An angel (I guess) stands
over my shoulder
training his flashlight on my face.
Does he mean to wake me, to blind me?
Did my pupils dilate? I have lots of small
guilts pumping through my valves:
I neglected to take out the trash
this morning. I argued with
mother and cursed her in my mind.
I drank from the juice carton upon
waking today, lips and morning breath
direct on the spout; stole
envelopes and postage from
work.
Shall I walk on into the light?
They say the true devil is an angel of light.
They say the true God is a God of light.
This angel, posing, training over my shoulder
Who sent him to me?
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