"Why am I here?" asks my buddy, bewildered,
Eyes searching the wardroom for clues.
There are six beds for six lost men
Who don't know where they are or how they got here.
He still knows who I am -- for now.
"My brain's not working right," he says.
I bring Chinese food, and magazines filled with
Lovely photos of pretty places he'll never visit again.
I bring art supplies, hoping the two-lane roads
Connecting eye, hand and brain
Are still unblocked by the protein-boulder avalanche
Crashing through his head, severing his synapses,
Cutting off the supply lines of all that's familiar --
Ford trucks, fast bikes, fast food, freeways, freedom, friends,
All his disappearing past. He has no future.
I bring him an mp3 player filled with echoes,
Music time-traveling,
A lost civilization calling out across the void --
Beach parties, house parties, little deuce coupe,
Surfing and biking and sailing a sloop,
And I worry. Will the music make him smile or cry?
Those days, his days, have long gone by.
His new best friend, Death, hasn't shown up yet
With the only gift that can help -- a one-way ticket
Out of the misery and into the mystery.
I share some time and bring some things
But can't do any good.
My friend's asked me to kill him.
If I could, I would.
Susan Cameron, copyright 2012
This is so powerful and so very sad. I hope it helped you a little bit to write it, but I wish there'd never been a need to. Excellent.
ReplyDeleteAs Liz said, powerful and sad and yet the beauty of the words you use to tell the story makes it almost a joyful longing. I love the line "a one-way ticket out of the misery and into the mystery."
ReplyDeleteMy world view says that this is hopeful for the greater happy place :)
Oh my heavens, Susie, this is so poignant and so touching and such a lovely, if painful, salute to Larry. Feeling just pulses out from every line and the depth of your dismay and hurt for him is palpable and makes me wish I could just hold you tight and him too. So sad, so very sad. You made my heart ache.
ReplyDelete