Monday, August 8, 2011

shoot me she said

shoot me she said
did I hear right?
my mother was known to speak her mind
but was she serious?
my mother, my doorway into life
always present,
not known to make jokes

shoot me she said
I don’t want to
spend my last years
in that place           

that place with its
smell of urine
creaky corridors
whispers and cries

shoot me she said
but I don’t have a gun
and if I did I couldn’t

shoot me she said
as if spending
the rest of my life in prison was
the lesser of two evils

I couldn’t,
she shrugged

I move away
half a continent
another country

a year later, the call came
she’s gone my brother said
as if it was the end of everything

I was with her he said
she had been sick for days.
I was helping her
back from the bathroom
she just collapsed
a stroke
it was like she had been shot.

he looked at her
touched her, no pulse
then he called for help

they came
              so fast
pounded on her chest,
electric paddles,
“extraordinary measures”
assaulting her cooling body

he prayed
prayed that they were too late
they were

1 comment:

  1. This is so powerful. I somehow don't remember the last lines. Did you just add them? Possibly I was so engrossed in the beginning of this piece that I did not take in the ending. Thanks for posting it here. Km...