March 29, 2011
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Memorial
Beyond the mists of memory
This eccentric artifice is now felt with curious fingers
It defies logic… super-glued he is jokingly informed
To a ventricle of that worm-shaped rounded mass within his head
A permanent swelling fingered under his scalp
Draining life-threatening moisture
By means of a filtering flow-pipe into his loins
This crucial effluent which sustains each living creature
This fluid without which life on this imperfect earth
Would not be possible… a few random drops casually wiped
The simple moistening in the corner of one’s eye
A drop shed at a graveside… A cool drink from a forest spring
Becomes a virtual death sentence… A surgical anomaly
If not drained away before it floods the phrenological pan
There are moments when he gathers left-over thoughts
And arranges them willy-nilly into some orderly semblance
To piece together a rationale and keep the dew of further existence
From drying up before the light fades into that “good night”
But it becomes so much more than burdensome
It resembles the scattering of ashes over a neaped-out beach
A disintegration of brilliant anemone… a crushing of dry moss
Worlds come and go… The heavens abound with them seen and unseen
But one’s existence is unique… there is no other similar gathering of cells
Sustained by the fluid gift of an entity which shall never be known…
Comments (3)
There was a boy named Lucas in my parents' orphanage back in the 80s who had a shunt. I remember when it was malfunctioning, how he screamed and slapped at the side of his head. I wonder where he is now. My parents aren't around to ask who adopted him.
@Roadkill_Spatula - They have improved the procedure a lot since then... I hope that young fellow is okay... Thank you for your comment...
Seems I know so many with shunts. An excellent description with a great conclusion - we are all unique.
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