Hiss and chunk-chunk
bellows working
hesitant with oxygen in plastic tubes
Inhale
skin to skin with latex-gloves between,
Exhale.
Inhale-exhale, LED-displayed
I see the needle’s eye.
Spoon by spoon
potatoes drenched in gravy
sticking to my chin.
“He doesn’t recognize my voice”
I see those eyes,
think of salt and morphine.
Warmth is slipping
tepid gravy in my mouth.
Exhale.
Envisioning my last supper in a prompt by Corey at toads.
—
August 27, 2015

while this, for me, is disconcerting it also holds a comforting quality and I love the way you’ve portrayed the viewpoint – as if out of body viewing the scene…vivid and poignant work, Bjorn.
Really enjoyed reading this.
Oh, my gosh, Bjorn. This is uncomfortably real. Too many loved one have ended this way. Not the worst way to go but so sad nonetheless.
I spent so many hours with my mother in her memory care facility ~~ came to love the residents ~~ you have described in aching detail those final meals.
I can picture this very well Bjorn ~ It conjures for me the sick man’s dying last days ~ Sadly it happens all too often ~
This was painful to read, Bjorn. Well done.
My immediate visceral response is that at that point I will probably be hoping I choke on one of those potatoes
yes bjorn, i have seen this ever too often lately. but that’s life; that in the end many of us will leave unclaimed, forgotten. just with a bowl of potato soup and an oxygen nasal canula
Yikes–very sad. k.
This is a very sobering vision, Bjorn. How brave of you to put yourself in that place.
Damnation, that was vividly morose and awesome in the most terrible way ever….lol. Bjorn you captured a point in time that most of has dealt with, not many have experienced and aren’t really in a hurry to get there, and you did in an almost shockingly honest portrait. Woe…that was amazing.
Life may be reduced to tepidity in the end; I feel the experience of your poem ending with the final exhale…
Well, damn.
Flashback to feeding my mom some of her last food, crumbled ground beef. Which she promptly spit to the foot of the bed….. Tepid indeed.
This is intense. Very real – unless one happens to go while sleeping … far, far away from a “care” facility.
Great description of the person fading away, losing the ability to comprehend all but the basic senses. Well done.