SUDDEN NEAR DEATH
C Ra McGuirt
it had been a fairly stressful weekend.
i was pissed off at myself
for being pissed off at various people.
i'd been up&writing all night,
mostly about being pissed.
i'd tried, but i couldn't get sleep:
i was too wired from the fight.
in the evening, i called a very good friend
to read him my poems, which explained
why i was so fucking angry.
he&his lover were very patient
& decent&enthusiastic
for a very long time.
they said they would call me back later,
so i thanked them&kicked back
to try&chill out.
i'd given myself one quart of beer
to sip at very slowly
while i taped a movie for me&my wife
to watch together later that night.
on the side, i had a good new book
about Jim Morrison,&figured
that i'd mostly read the book
& sip on the beer while i waited.
i sighed&knew i was getting crazy
over things of little importance
& decided that it surely couldn't hurt
to take a mild muscle relaxer...
i threw one into my throat
with a sip of beer
& it stuck there.
i swallowed,&it didn't go down.
i tried to take a breath,&failed.
the pill felt like my death.
i knew it was my death.
i was going to die in the kitchen
where i'd recently been so pissed
over poetic politics. shit, i thought.
if i could laugh, i would...
then i coughed the pill across the room,
took a deep tortured breath
death flew west without me
& i was left to write this poem.
goddam. that was pretty intense...
