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A Short Wish List

A Short Wish List
                  “Is pain an outright gift?”
                                   Reynolds Price
Who of you, wearing glowing gowns
of perfect health, would want to leave this earth,
(in a non-astronaut kind of way)?
I hope to be completely in pain, worn out
with a fifteen foot eyedropper of morphine nearby.
So uncomfortably miserable
that I want to step through myself,
or swim right back to the parallel
of that ruby-ruby red never land.
It won’t matter if no one remembers
my pain; how I lie, lips pursed,
refusing even water, sporadically twitching
my right thumb, trying to hitchhike
my skinny ass right on out of town.
Re-connect with a few old friends,
all of us sitting at picnic tables,
making love to each other
and racks of smoked pork
while sipping cold beer and sweet tea.

17 Jan 11

(define the words in this poem)
(3 more poems by this author)

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This was kinda morbid...honestly.
 — psychofemale

Hi psychofemale,

yes it kind of is/was. I made a revision to further expound.

I drew some of the details from recently watching and helping a few people pass away peacefully.

 — Mic2

I like beer and ribs.
 — unknown