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Poem
Author's note: This is an epic length poem that will have to be split into parts and will be serialized in successive posts.

Part 3


our subject awoke 
while still dark everywhere
dark with agony 
an amputee's life 
is not an easy one
bedsores the size of Antarctica 
morphine by the quart
Musella asks 
where you want her today kid
the kid can only volunteer 
right in the humerus Muse
Musella aims her cupid's dart 
at the stump of legend
as he talks dirty over 
the roaring in his head
it's the intercom buzzing 
somebody stop him
the Kid hugging those 
intercontinental ballistic breasts
yells his head off
UNCONTRITE!

the monitor screens 
have gone static
he is pulled through 
his phosphorescent windshield
by Tex and his pony Mescaloosa 
our kid searches the face 
of his deliverer for a sign
his deliverer's facade alternately 
smiles and frowns
in the manner of an ambivalent oracle
contemplate the causal 
resultant of life muses Tex
instead I empty my stomach 
looking for augury
and read my gurgling Rorschach
a message from children in bare feet 
singing jump rope rhymes 
unconcerned with desire as equations
shielded from the Wheel of Heaven
grinding the bones of sinners
by the wings of Mother Goose
who else?
break time this is a union town


sceno septimo
the Wheel of Heaven

sleep overcomes the ex-traveler
orderlies have spread germicide 
in the dangerous places
quilted with sterile padding 
mummified in steamy gauze
fresh from the autoclave 
straight to NEURO WARD 4
intubated in cathetered out 
curetted and pipetted
by Tex's one armed colleague
studio heads want a series 
full channel scanograph
Dr. Rector of the award winning
Morphgenic Properties of 
Infantile Retinal Hyperfunctionality
takes one look and says roll 'em
my insides glow from coast to coast 
inside out for my public
as the meter needles reach red 
the perceptive Dr. D. elocutes 
just how healthy do you think you are
yours truly answers for the record books 
for the nation
DON'T BUY THE DOUBLE LINE!
the meter needles hit purple,
Musella checks the tubing for clogs
blowing herself purple too 
a front line trooper
we are all wounded
for anestheticians the question is
to emerge or not to emerge
must our young conclude 
LIES ALL LIES
where did these many organs 
and their silent churning come from
is the issue tissue rejection 
or just plain rejection per se
two hands go for the buzzer 
but get tangled in the tubing
arm tube nose tube mouth tube 
chest tube piss tube

...To be continued
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