Prognosis Negative

Another ICU, a thicket of cords.

It’s the year of nearly dying;

have the doctor on standby,

to graft the family tree to yours.

Fluorescence for weeks, I’m catatonic.

Crack a window and my sternum.

CPR rhythms on the intercom,

I refuse to go out like this.

On the down beep his chest heaves.

IV of salt and Buffalo Trace,

my body is mostly empty space

but everything is so damn heavy.