"Compression, Bandaged"
his thumb:
the pulp of a blood orange
throbbing, pulsing
in her trembling hands
her calm words coming out
from some other
mind
his infected blood
spilling over her
white white
gloves
his gasps
his eyes clenched squeezing
out this sight
like two swollen fists
on his face
she wrapped
around and around
and around and around
until the red heat
was tamed
into nothing but gauze
into a secret underneath
but the scarlet splashed
dripping
across his chest
it gave her away
and she lifted his elbow
the very simplest of measures
and told him to squeeze
to make pressure
pressure pressure,
to disobey his instincts
but did he even understand her?
and then the doctor
said put him in an ambulance
but he was already gone
so she ran
out
into the parking lot
into the street
past the hoards
the throngs of people
staring
like meerkats
frozen
watching the others out of the corners of their eyes
to know what to do
she yelled
she yelled
but she did not know his name
still she yelled out for him
and then
there he was
his blue overalls
deep purple now,
these from the job
he might never do again
he'd become another one
of the jobless masses
sitting all day
underneath the trees
shooting the breeze
and starving
crushed by some machine
lost: a thumb
the thing that separates us
from all the other animals
somehow tied to wisdom
Thursday, August 14, 2008
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