Five poems for Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis

1

An almost, circumstance. Sustained

by intensive care unit, my father’s

withered muscles. First the right hand, legs, the lungs;

a machine to administer breath. On Carling Avenue,

flush in fluorescent polish,

an eternity of blankets, stainless repetition.

Time simultaneously collapsed,

suspends. He will not return home, but

for singular purpose. To finally land; to comprehend

where he once stood.

2.

Pinned, to the weather. If he might or could,

these endless meetings

with social worker, hospital staff. He will not return home,

but might, yes. Texts out

responses, queries. Sister

administers, paperwork: wheelchair,

hospital bed, BiPAP machine,

health workers. His medical history

goes viral. What else. An updated proposal

invites. Bag

by the ready.

3.

Sleep apnea, diabetes,

colon cancer, triple bypass, short term

kidney dialysis,

multiple sclerosis. Worn, our hearts crush.

Wherein, his lungs. He sleeps

all morning, and another year. A blood clot,

cyst; thigh-high, the muscle. Set

the scanners on. Attempt

to drain. It doesn’t, won’t. Home plans

suspend. Demarcate, black marker

lineates. The daily whiteboard calendar

by his bed is obsolete

for half a day.

4.

Imagine, his options: history held

the iron lung. Lists, a sentence. His strength

will not return. Will ours? My sister’s

homemade contraband, a

chicken wrap, delights. We offer strawberries,

raspberries, daily paper. His hospital flatscreen,

suspended in air,

shimmers local news. The only

difference, amid

the daily bleed.

5.

I am aware of my silence

on this matter.