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This writing was accepted for publication in
the 108 page perfect-bound ISSN# / ISBN# issue/book
Testament
cc&d (v256) (the July/August 2015 issue)




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Testament

enjoy this writing from Janet Kuypers
in the cc&d free 2014 PDF file chapbook:

Nerves of a Poet
of brand new poems and haiku poems performed live
11/21/14 at Chicago’s Cafe Cabaret
with music from the HA!Man of South Africa...

Click the title or the cover
to download the free PDF file chapbook.
Nerves of a Poet - poems from Janet Kuypers
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One Solitary Word
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July - Dec. 2014
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Eight to Sixteen

Janet Kuypers
10/8/14

You came back again
from one of your trips
to the other side of the planet.

You know I love you
more than anything on Earth,
but... I’m getting used to your absence.

#

It’s a terrible thing to say, I know,
but when you came back this time
and said you had a fever

I figured you ingested their toxic water
and you’d have the stomach flu
for days, but then you’d be fine.

But this time, with your fever,
I remembered how you drank the water
swimming south of the Equator,

and I thought nothing of it.
It would clear up in a week.
I’ll just hold off on kissing you again.

#

But after eight days,
you went to the doctor,
told them of your travel and ails.

And that’s when the doctor
called the CDC
and the Federal agencies swarmed in.

After you left for the doctor,
the next contact I had
was with men in Hazmat suits at my door.

They asked me if I was alone.
They asked me if I had any children.
Then they asked me to come with them.

I told them I needed to wait
for my husband, and they told me
you were now in isolation.

After hours, they told me
that you caught a nasty virus
while you were away on your trip —

But I said, “Wait a minute,
he was on a work trip, and his company
made him take a ton of drugs

so that he’d be immune
and wouldn’t catch anything —”
and that’s when they stopped me, right there.

They locked me in a room.
They told me I couldn’t leave.
Then they said he caught a bad strain

while helping a woman
he found on the street,
bleeding, pregnant, and in pain.

It took them two days
to discover the details
before they gave me the news.

“He’s in isolation,
we’re trying new treatments,
and hopefully he’ll be okay.”

But, I know of this virus,
it’s usually lethal,
so... Please. Let me see him. Now.

That’s when they said, “Sorry,
it’s out of our hands,
but you must be quarantined too.”

So I screamed at the medics,
all to no avail,
as they swore I had to stay safe.

So...
I paced in my isolation.
I watched the drive by news.
And I heard them say stats

that death from this virus
can come from 8, up to 16 days.

Eight to sixteen days.

It was eight days
before he even went to the doctor —
will this waiting do him in?

I couldn’t talk to him.
I couldn’t see his face.
I couldn’t kiss him, or

tell him I loved him.
That I’ll always love him.
That I’m nothing without him.

#

The morning of the 5th day,
still trapped in isolation,
that’s when they told me he died.

#

My blood work was clean,
but they kept me in isolation
when they said they’d cremate my love.

And all I could think
was, ‘after you’re done,
send him to Arlington National Cemetery’

so the world will know
he’s a hero to more than just me,
as you kept me away ‘til he died.

And still, I continue to pace,
trapped in this room, alone,
with nothing to wait for

ever again.



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