Order this writing in the 2010 6" x 9" ISBN# book Dual
of Janet Kuypers poetry converted to prose, based on 1990s chapbooks
from GAD Publishing Company of Kuypers: “Drop.” and “Roll.”
Loss 2010
Janet Kuypers (poetry converted to prose)
walked with you in an ALS rally after I had locked my keys in my car... saw you a few times after they told me you were sick. you looked fine. you looked good. I couldn’t see anything wrong with you
finally, I would call you ask if you could still drive a car, and I invited you to visit me, so we could spend some time together. and you would say, why... so I’d have a new tv to watch for a while?
I didn’t want this to happen to you, I swear.
your family watch lupis take a loved one, and now ALS consumes you. your mind is just fine — that’s what the doctors tell me. it’s just that your nervous system is breaking you down cellularly. and your crystal clear, sharp mind has to stand by and watch yourself fall apart. I know this is rare, but it’s progressive, degenerative, fatal... and watching you go through this increasing and spreading muscular weakness. as you live through your days now, I imagine hearing your heartbeat like the flapping of hummingbird wings... under water.
I know I’m not the one suffering but I am.
I know I’ve lived through hell, but it’s not fair that I survived... just to watch this happen to you.
went to a funeral today and saw you there: wheelchair bound, slurred speech... thin as a rail. but still smiling when you saw me — and I had to smile and small talk with you. with you, who could barely speak... and I had to act like everything was okay.
your friend held your cigarette outside with you, put the cigarette to your lips so you could inhale, then he pulled it away, to wait for your next breath
I couldn’t stay at the funeral too long today. I had seen too much death.
