Tubed
Here I lie – on a meat cart bed –
An orifice down below –
Spits a tube of rubber –
By and by – rests a catheter –
It bleeds a vein –
My tongue too stuck – to lick –
My throat too parched – to swallow –
It tightens with fear –
Of the tube that breathes –
My pulse quickens –
It feathers the skin –
Between my ear and eye –
An echo of beeps – in crude synchrony –
Languish near my head –
An accordion robot – leers and plumes –
Ejects metalic wind –
Into my lungs – now tame, now sterile –
The tube invades my mouth –
Breeds droplets –
Each pregnant with doubt –
They incense me —
Little by little – ween myself –
Small sips of air –
Each sweeter than before,
Each fresher than the last.