Not Better Off Dead

This is not

any love song,

nor any psalm,

for me.

-

A 20-something’s rush

to the office store,

replace the paper

to write a score.

A truck turns,

and broad-sides his legs,

rescuers drag him, footless and burning,

not to sing, not to beg.

Not a love song,

nor a psalm

…..of a poet

not better off dead.

-

In a still, lone bed

of a rural ICU

a patient with a lung-implant

gasps a poem

I do not know.

The Rag is passed

and the new ear listens.

Is it a better love song

or psalm

sought after

the author's gone?

-

From a month spent

in coma from a stroke:

springs one man,

with one wife,

a universe-city of students,

twin boys full of life,

to teach, to talk,

to hug, to walk,

to reach:

only one-armed not,

but for a love song,

and a psalm for all.

-

She cuts
on her arm,

not for physical pain,

but release of heart’s balm

on her psychic longing,
 of a new moment dawning,

again…not better off dead.

-

Not

that I cannot

live without you,

today.

But knowing

I can

see you

again

tomorrow,

is a love song

and a psalm for

a better-off day.

-

( To: Those in Haiti, for the victims, dead or alive)
-
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