Post Mortem

Could have been most anything really – there

       are innumerable ways for things to get dicey. Is

the red line of tetanus tiptoeing toward your heart? Maybe

      a golf ball is sailing your way. Could be a bone hiding

in your hurried lunch, something electrical

       near the shower, stitches unraveling  

while driving in the fast lane,

       a tumor swelling in the inner

sanctum of the skull, unexpected crossfire, something

       in the tap-water, a nervous thief,

and that’s it for the

       life you took so seriously, the external   

conditions. As if an identity could be assigned to water –

       something so changeable, it demands we learn to be powerless together.

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