My reason for this curtain
As I hold it around your bed
is simply
to think
I
am still alive.

The smell overcomes
my sleep.

My dreams
are parades
of full bedpans
and empty gravesites.

Where was it you
wanted to rest?
I ask you tonight
you say
At home,
I would eat better there
You could fix me
a nice cutlet.
Tomorrow
they will pump
more liquids
thru your heart.

There is a change of
clocks tonight
As we lose an hour
As I lose
My Big Break
My Aroused Fantasy
or a man
As you lose your hair
your food
your dignity
As you
Release
the smell of death
into a bedpan
It keeps me awake
that smell of lanolin shit
those raspy snores
from throats lined
coffin-satin.

My own breath
so fragile
a white feather
floating through my eyes

While I sleep
While I drive
While I watch over you tonight.

Margaret Kruszewska©1986