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"that metal medical bed" |
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when she was dying
i saw my mother's genitalia
(brown and healthy pubic hair)
as she tried to get out of
that metal medical bed
and she saw me see
and smiled
and laughed
i smiled, then looked away
the machine that showed her heart rate
reached 180
a nurse came and asked me to leave
and i was laughing
the nurse said
this is not a party
your mother is very ill
death is not an illness
my mother said
it's a sort of degradation
© 2000 Richard Zola
Biography:
Surprised to be alive . . . sometimes pensive; often defensive . . . have been helpless, hopeless, helper, and helped.
You are cordially invited to visit Richard's personal poetry web site. For those with delicate sensibilities, I will warn you that much of Richard's material deals with mature themes and subject matter. Poems containing adult content are clearly marked.
Web Site:
Richard Zola
And the Critics Say ~~
"I'm impressed with and compelled by Richard's poetry. I recommend his site to anyone with a good hour to kill and a heart for words."
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