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the sense
by Kenneth Lauthat death is near. a needle. clinking. a sudden rush of sterility. the chemical smell of attempted cleaniness. the smell of failure. the stench of human erasure. red smells like something real. the sound of gurgling. the velvet texture of blue faces. gurgling. eyes fixed on the vase next to the bed. blue is life. is death. is something in between the two. three lines run to his nose. chemicalflowerblood fragrance. the combination tickles the cilia. relaxes the veins. it hazes, but the blue spot looks more reddish now. the air tastes less distracted. the warmth will soon reach my lip. 08/28/2007 Posted on 08/29/2007
Copyright © 2025 Kenneth Lau
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Angela Nuzzo on 08/29/07 at 08:11 AM Yeesh! This is great, Kenneth. It makes me want to NEVER go into a hospital again. ;) I like how you have the lines all together - as if the person thinking these thoughts has no control over what's going through their mind & it's all running together. Stark details. Really gets the point across. |
| Posted by Rachelle Howe on 08/18/11 at 04:20 PM Sounds like death by injection. Riveting. |
| Posted by Rachelle Howe on 08/18/11 at 04:20 PM Sounds like death by injection. Riveting. |
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