Photo by Steven Holloway |
Life-Mast
LIFE-MAST
Alveoli:
Tiny sacs, tied together
Knotted in place with muscles
Wrapped by bones
Mummified in skin
Penetrated by cystic fibrosis
Lashed fore and aft
in anger
What was I thinking, by commanding this lashing
with angry ropes to the mast of my life-ship
that I might hear death more keenly?
Why, in a rage, did I stop up the ears of my comrades
that I might hear death more keenly?
Now they can’t hear me, nor I them. For they are dead.
In proud anger, I demanded the cords be drawn tighter
that I might hear death more keenly.
Now the Sirens of anger sing louder than the Sirens of death.
Where can I flee their sinewy notes
And strive again to hear more keenly?
Oh, that’s right, I can’t flee. I’m bound. To the life-mast.
Here:
penetrated by cystic fibrosis,
mummified in skin,
wrapped up by bones,
knotted in place with muscles,
tightly tied,
all the alveoli
They’re crowded within, fast becoming a crowd of dead, my own Hades.
If only I had known earlier how to listen to their melodious
inspirations
and expirations.
Cynthia Dunafon
2008
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