Friday, January 7, 2011
Doors of tiny cubicles frame nursing home eyes
Casting out from fragments of faded liberties
Hoping to net glances in the vast sea of neglect.
Rigid, metal wheelchairs pose gaunt anatomical frames
Uttering nebulous vocalizations and wheezy alarms
Grabbing at fabric garments of potential deliverance.
Single beds cradle withering remains of human forms
Existing hour after hour with tethered oxygen lifelines
Supplying cruel ropes of sustentation to shackled souls.
Elder atrophied toddlers shamble slowly in lonesome indignity
Navigating indifferently through a sanitized community
Masking a reality of mishap, urine, and defecation.
Bottles full of pharmaceuticals make promises of subsistence
Feeding stubborn genetic programs set to inborn molecular clocks
Housing hands of homeostatic imbalances for aging flesh and bones.
Rooms emptied of physical remains wait in pious, somber silence
Housing yet more dear lives as weigh stations of weary travelers
Supplying emigration portals and one-way tickets for destination Eternity.