Fall, I did today
saw the Inbox, one message
from a name of a person who’s no longer a person
hasn’t been for years
because he’s gone on, on
Billy
Billy who died of an aneurism or a catastrophic stroke
I can’t remember which
brain stem is a bad place for a bleed
Fell, he did
died instantly there in my grandmother’s living room
died instantly but was still breathing
9 siblings and child-like mother as next-of-kin
and none of them wanted to be the one to authorize the unplugging of the plug
so he didn’t die when it would have been an intimate family affair
when they were ready
he died when it was convenient
for the medical staff
silly him,
he died when it was convenient for them.
Ramblings of a Medicated Lady: Words of Woe by Loria Taylor 
6 comments
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August 24, 2009 at 3:34 pm
poeticgrin
You know, I think it survives as a standalone piece. Forget what I said this morning.
August 24, 2009 at 3:38 pm
medicatedlady
So I will put the question out there. to readers..does this poem need the note?
August 24, 2009 at 4:21 pm
jessiecarty
i didn’t need the note 🙂
August 25, 2009 at 8:41 am
medicatedlady
Yes, I removed the note. I hate notes. Just put it out there, I say.
August 25, 2009 at 6:18 pm
Uncle Tree
This wasn’t the fall
I was expecting, M’Lady.
How did Bryan…?
A curve ball you threw there with the plug thangy.
Damn, that could be a tough choice.
And it was a freaky message, I’ll give ya that.
The art of dying is your specialty,
and you’re getting better at it, too.
Is that possible? De’ja vu?
August 26, 2009 at 8:23 am
medicatedlady
Uncle–mmm. Thank you for acknowledging my penchant for death and dying. They call this “preoccupation” a symptom of Major Depression. I have to tell them this is not a new thing that just emerged. So when they ask if I think about death and dying a lot, I tell them, “no more than usual.” they look at me sort of funny. All my life, I have been close friends with death.