the enjoyment

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Non-Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: August 13, 2012

A A A | A A A

Submitted: August 13, 2012



on his deathbed

he stares up at the ceiling---

a stale, supposedly calming

light blue, basks down upon

his now disease ridden body &

with all the tubes pumping

painkillers & poisons into him,

he’s finally fallen into submission,

giving up the last remnants of

resistance to the belief that the

doctor’s have been right all along &

that this thing is a final determinant---

this thing is going to be what

does him in,

probably much sooner than he had



for him, there will be no more trips

home, for him, no faces of family or

friends will be seen---unless they come

to visit of their own accord,

rather, these are the pondering hours,

possibly days,

in which even the gentle clicks & beeps

of the machines beside him

send his fuzzy mind into a series of

stream of consciousness memory waves

which connect pieces of his life

that he could have swore he had forgotten

up until now.


each one is burnt on the wall inside his

skull, each one comes up like brail neath’

the fingers---translating the minute details

of the rising glaring images appearing in

his barely awake state, the whole while

reminding him of the eons which seemed

to stretch themselves out into the years

that now have been rolled up into a bundle

of fleeting, flashing, seconds.


while not all the memories are positive,

as the darkness still creeps in, the fact

remains that an overall peace takes hold

convincing him concretely that there is

no more reason at all whatsoever to

dwell on those places in his head, those

nether regions which brought anguish in

the past & dragged on throughout his

life, bringing up new pain like the enduring

side-effects of a drug---instead, now, the

calming blue above begins to morph into

a gorgeous lake, one which he went fishing

with his father up in the Adirondacks,

when the green canoe was filled with

the essentials of the day (the bait, cokes,

sandwiches & of course, Lay’s sour cream &

onion potato chips) & time seemed to stop

completely, whilst the two of them shared

an afternoon coasting along the quiet waters

of a lake which they solely occupied, taking

turns rowing & casting out in hopes of a

big return.

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