( / West Hartford, CT)

The Zipper

[from the Crab Sonnets]

They sank a silver zipper in my chest:
a foot of snag-toothed staples used to chain
the cavity where cancer bloomed its yeast.
The lovely morphine drips: I don't complain.
I feel aloof; the nurses glide like ghosts,
their chat like crinkled cellophane: I sway
upon an inner stalk each time I'm dosed.
The lights stay on to keep it day all day.

A voice in surplice hints I'm deeply hurt,
provisional, as rumored in my blood.
My tongue feels bronzed; I try but fail to blurt
against demeaning signs of likelihood-
a gullet's a hard barter for a cure.
I'll bite down hard, disjunctively endure.

User Rating: 4,8 / 5 ( 6 votes ) 3

Comments (3)

Post-Op in Intensive care Unit.
I am with Sandra, love it and added 10. Amazing composition.
Stark, powerful, unforgettable. Your courage becomes you. Nor has your ability to creat an extraordinary poem been diminished in any fashion. Take care. Warm regards, Sandra