We are all in the hospital together... all of us. The IVs rattle above us, see-through gods with their jingling rattles, bodiless, pure... Why must we sink and sink? The lead allays 5 the hurt of its thrust; rubber hands pull bullets from my side. When did the first enigma enter? Its pulsing yeowl spurred through a lurid kidney, blood ripe blood aching to black against the crystallized innards. Near me towered and grimaced the great man, 10 his heart-pouch slaughtered while the cameras whirred. The anesthetist's mask crouches at my throat hissing its green dreams of health. What cure will come slurring from my ribbons, white and clean as a slug? I remember a young man's 15 fanatic face and tanless untrembling hand.... Its purely pathological, I'm sure of it."
From the collection "Contemporaries"
Written by Gregg Glory [Gregg G. Brown]
More information available on gregglory.com.