It felt like one moment
walking down that hallway.
The elasticity wrapped
‘Round the earth was hugging me to extinction.
I sat in a wooden chair,
the kind built for yard sales and grandmothers.
I spent the night in the emergency room e.r.
following a ‘cancer attack” in Portland Maine.
A kind friend was willing to drive me all the way
to Boston– I knew I could no longer live on my own.
I opened my mouth too assuredly when the docs asked
if I had a history with drugs.
And then it’s the hallway.
I’d been doing very well staying away
from the things we like to stuff up our noses,
but at this point i was ready to start snorting
the ancient rug under my feet.
What, then, if death is the hollow vastness,
swept up from nothing, hurtling towards
the everything that is nothing…. does it matter,
when I just wanna know who I am?
And, lastly who is this presence
that sees the no presence that is it
and is literally dying to touch it?