Katelyn Rubenzer: Untitled

Fall '13 TOC

I remember

A plaid bed sheet
A heavy baby spoon.
Urine-soaked clothes.
Hopes of misdiagnosed
Protruding rib cages.
Rubbery skin.

his body

Calloused veins.
Cracked lips.
Transparent skin.
Stoned eyes.
Loose hair.
Clumps in fists.
Blood-filled coughs.

He remembers

an airplane seat.
a teenager's
nail polish fumes.
No ventilation.
his robotic limb.

his wishes

More quality.
Less quantity.
Less pain.
More pleasure.
Less patience.
More courage.
Some acceptance.
Less changes.

He is twenty-seven and dying.



Not Enough Night
Not Enough Night
© 2012 Naropa University