Short Sepsis Poems

If the world were to kill me
please mourn
I was conjured with all good intention
by a loving earth
but the world is full of murderous things
in the sun and the sea
and my sanitized plate may be poisoned 
by a surviving microbe
or residual pesticide
the world might jerk
and grind me in its jaw
or some ‘fluenza, from far away  
may drop in my lap
and give me sepsis
while I pause to appreciate the beauty
of a bluebird passing
against the sky....

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My sister is unwell
Taken by ambulance
First we heard she had sepsis
Then we heard she has Covid
Third diagnosis was a broken T-1 disc
Which means a broken neck
What? This was after the second ambulance ride
And a chiropractor adjustment in between
Surgery is imminent we are told
Then surgery is optional
Now she has pneumonia
I was told by someone who may know
She is saying this because she does not believe in Covid.
I dread picking up the phone now....

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Have we ceded our stewardship
allowed a systemic sepsis to spread
acquiesced to the benign malaise
of Death’s directing finger?

Spending billions to cure diseases
caused by poverty’s pestilence
arming ourselves against an assault
of mutating microbial minds

Offering triage to the fatality
of futility’s folly
bandaging life’s severed limbs
sound biting our souls.

Who took the village?


©8/1/2019

Sound of Silence Poetry Contest
John Hamilton sponsor...

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