deepundergroundpoetry.com

Image for the poem A Rather Bad Dissertation on the Current Life and After-Life (of dkzk)

A Rather Bad Dissertation on the Current Life and After-Life (of dkzk)

 
 
beauty  
of the touch  
of love  
unlikely  
to ever touch  
again  
 
heart disabled.  
heart dying.  
 
how dare you infer  
complainantly!  Blessed be!  
(But that's not true)  
 
[i]Near all is cut off,  
because of "unreliable balance" issues.  
(am walking straight and unlimping with  
no   dependence
on cane discontinued).  
Car confiscated. Every move watched.  
Possible danger. Everywhere.  
May not cook on stove or ove
n. (!Fire!)  
May not shop for own groceries.  
Last hospital, 4 weeks in isolation.  
Then one more week [i]quarantine
* in rehab.  
Unhealthy weird tasting food served in styrofoam boxes[/i]  
       three times a day. 14hours overnight with no  
       offers of snacks. drinks, anything.  
Family contemplating permanent residence in such a place.  
O, dear, dire family. I've burnt y'alls out. I didn't mean it. I am  
        most grateful for your aid and assistance.  
We all wondering what percent dysfunction  
         heart must get to to die.  
One physician say "He shoulda been dead  
         five years ago".  
Whoa! This Kozak is a fckn miracle man!!  
Personally, Doc, i'm most weary of all this survival  
                                  and miracle shit.  
          Tired of "almost almost almost dead"  
Nearly 200 days in hospital this year.  
Send me wherever my dear Leah Marie has gone.  
I have a feeling it just be permanent anesthesia.  
No angelic reunions. After the lofty hallucinations  
        of brain deterioration, just blankness  
        veiling everything that is impossible to  
        humanly fathom. A dubious gift it is  
         that we can all "believe"  
        anything we want of death,( & boy, have we  
        come up wit some doozies). I feel most of us are  
        going to be very disappointed with The After-Life.  
Such as it is, it'll all be over before we knew  
        what hit us ( I mightily presume).  
It's always "later than we think".  
                                                       Always.  
 
*the place practices TWO people per quarantine room! Yow! That's what I call CoVid Isolation !.  
 
&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&  
dankozakbadpoomsbadpixtrs2020augie1st
Written by dkzksaxxas_DanielX (DadaDoggyDannyKozakSaxfn)
Published | Edited 2nd Aug 2020
Author's Note
It's All Bullshit. None of Us Know What We Be Doin'
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 4 reading list entries 2
comments 8 reads 435
Commenting Preference: 
The author encourages honest critique.

Latest Forum Discussions
POETRY
Today 3:07am by Betty
SPEAKEASY
Today 00:42am by Zazzles
COMPETITIONS
Today 00:09am by Vision_of_insanity
SPEAKEASY
Yesterday 11:46pm by Ahavati
SPEAKEASY
Yesterday 10:42pm by Ahavati
SPEAKEASY
Yesterday 9:21pm by wallyroo92