The day I deign
To the catheter
And breathing tube
The stale air of things
That are, or almost, ending
You, inattendant
Spelling a decade of mistake
An age of decay
I, no longer nature-able
To expel poison intake
Drawn a picture-perfect
Independence to scale
A machine making man
Accordion pumping
Dry potpourri red
Flaking empty ventricle
Your slender fingers detached
From the keys
Delete the song
We sang
In the round
To find the end of a circle
In synthesized bisection
Conjure another picture
Replay a recording of
The voice you’d use when
You were smiling
A trick that always worked
Calling forth
Any other reality but this one
To have to do this again.

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