Ashok Niyogi on the Other Side of the
ICU
In the femur,
A rod gone in
Shining,
Contrasting light
With the opacity
Of muscles and skin.
Translucence of blood
Shows
Through pores,
Bedsores,
But I want my tea.
Hiccups
From my Lord
On the Cross,
Dialysis of life,
Intubated inertia,
In catheter pouches,
Gathered urine.
Femur, muscles, blood, urine
Even tea,
Alone like my occult,
All is alone,
Brain dead.
But I want my cigarette
To burn to the filter
Before I light another one.
I count beeps that change
To monotones,
I practice language,
In delirium, I have to meet
Mark Twain on the moon.
© Copyright Ashok Niyogi 2006