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Final Option
CHEST Editor’s Note: The author wrote “Winded” the year her family contracted whooping cough. —Michael Zack, MD, FCCP
Winded
Pectoriloquy
Editor’s Note: The author writes: “My poetic endeavors have only begun after a 34-year career as a teacher of English and Drama in Westchester County, NY.” —Michael Zack, MD, FCCP
FINAL OPTION
I. Time propels her in ticks, the stitches that slide like Dali’s clocks into a puddle under her ribs— a bowl that holds this visceral soup.
Given the choice of protracted death Or death without goodbye, I’d choose the pain of leaving slow Above a sudden mortal blow.
If she moves, it will slosh and spill. If she stays, it fills like spring in a pond. A strange exchange of atmosphere— her throat chokes its own air.
One stroke that steals the breath away, A random bullet to the brain, Leaves no chance to make amends Or bid farewell to fond old friends.
She counts on syrup and aerosols, elixir doled out in small spoons. In a dozen hours—or days—she might sew her breath without a catch.
What? Leave, and have the kinfolk weep? I’d be robbed of satisfaction at their grief ! I’m fearful that a heart attack Will cruelly stab me in the back.
II. Breath feeds the body, into the lungs, into the blood, and stays. The body keeps its atmosphere. The throat clenches, clutches air close, and she struggles against the wall of herself. Let it out. Let it in. The miracle resuming.
Oh, no! I’d rather see friends squirm, At rumor of a parasitic germ. I’d much prefer a slow cirrhosis Or even multiple sclerosis.
How trades are made: oxygen— a swap through the thinnest membranes— bonding with blood, keeping the body pink. This most elemental of bargains— we thought we had a deal. Joannie Kervran Stangeland Seattle, WA Editor’s note for authors of submissions to Pectoriloquy: Poems should not exceed 350 words, should not have been previously published, and should be related to concerns of physicians and medicine. First submissions to the Pectoriloquy Section should be submitted via e-mail to [email protected]. Authors of accepted poems will be asked to submit the final version to CHEST Manuscript Central. © 2010 American College of Chest Physicians. Reproduction of this article is prohibited without written permission from the American College of Chest Physicians (www.chestjournal.org/ site/misc/reprints.xhtml). DOI: 10.1378/chest.09-1273 232
Over coronary thrombosis I’d opt for dementia psychosis. Offered the chance of pancreatic cancer, Yes, please! would be my answer. In bed with life supporting tubes While loved ones feign a smile Would ease without a passing doubt The sudden pain of checking out. Supreme delight to see them seeing me Respiring in an O2 tent Happily lapsing to a coma Eons past detecting melanoma. And they concerned exuding keen In searching for a reason, Crack with mine their poised facades While lashing out at cruel, indifferent Gods. Robert Joseph Foley, MA Yonkers, NY © 2010 American College of Chest Physicians. Reproduction of this article is prohibited without written permission from the American College of Chest Physicians (www.chestjournal.org/ site/misc/reprints.xhtml). DOI: 10.1378/chest.09-0802 Pectoriloquy
Winded
Pectoriloquy
Editor’s Note: The author writes: “My poetic endeavors have only begun after a 34-year career as a teacher of English and Drama in Westchester County, NY.” —Michael Zack, MD, FCCP
FINAL OPTION
I. Time propels her in ticks, the stitches that slide like Dali’s clocks into a puddle under her ribs— a bowl that holds this visceral soup.
Given the choice of protracted death Or death without goodbye, I’d choose the pain of leaving slow Above a sudden mortal blow.
If she moves, it will slosh and spill. If she stays, it fills like spring in a pond. A strange exchange of atmosphere— her throat chokes its own air.
One stroke that steals the breath away, A random bullet to the brain, Leaves no chance to make amends Or bid farewell to fond old friends.
She counts on syrup and aerosols, elixir doled out in small spoons. In a dozen hours—or days—she might sew her breath without a catch.
What? Leave, and have the kinfolk weep? I’d be robbed of satisfaction at their grief ! I’m fearful that a heart attack Will cruelly stab me in the back.
II. Breath feeds the body, into the lungs, into the blood, and stays. The body keeps its atmosphere. The throat clenches, clutches air close, and she struggles against the wall of herself. Let it out. Let it in. The miracle resuming.
Oh, no! I’d rather see friends squirm, At rumor of a parasitic germ. I’d much prefer a slow cirrhosis Or even multiple sclerosis.
How trades are made: oxygen— a swap through the thinnest membranes— bonding with blood, keeping the body pink. This most elemental of bargains— we thought we had a deal. Joannie Kervran Stangeland Seattle, WA Editor’s note for authors of submissions to Pectoriloquy: Poems should not exceed 350 words, should not have been previously published, and should be related to concerns of physicians and medicine. First submissions to the Pectoriloquy Section should be submitted via e-mail to [email protected]. Authors of accepted poems will be asked to submit the final version to CHEST Manuscript Central. © 2010 American College of Chest Physicians. Reproduction of this article is prohibited without written permission from the American College of Chest Physicians (www.chestjournal.org/ site/misc/reprints.xhtml). DOI: 10.1378/chest.09-1273 232
Over coronary thrombosis I’d opt for dementia psychosis. Offered the chance of pancreatic cancer, Yes, please! would be my answer. In bed with life supporting tubes While loved ones feign a smile Would ease without a passing doubt The sudden pain of checking out. Supreme delight to see them seeing me Respiring in an O2 tent Happily lapsing to a coma Eons past detecting melanoma. And they concerned exuding keen In searching for a reason, Crack with mine their poised facades While lashing out at cruel, indifferent Gods. Robert Joseph Foley, MA Yonkers, NY © 2010 American College of Chest Physicians. Reproduction of this article is prohibited without written permission from the American College of Chest Physicians (www.chestjournal.org/ site/misc/reprints.xhtml). DOI: 10.1378/chest.09-0802 Pectoriloquy