I have always hated hospitals.
You find yourself at a loss when observing
The final embodiment of
a life well lived.
Impaired and grounded
A lucid spark lingers, you can see it,
But don’t want to stare.
Be polite.
Am I there for him or for me?
Anecdotally, I‘ll be glad to have gone.
Upon reflection, it was good that I was able to go.
That New Years Eve spent on a deathbed with
Intravenous resolutions rigged up to
Flush through a packed-up liver.
The £1 Kodak batteries, unopened,
Lie next to his Walkman.
I wish the doctors could fix us as quick:
“Great Granddad’s playing up and warping his words