There's nothing like a medical emergency,
Possibly fatal
To teach you the categories of pain
That you never imagined,
Ever conceived, well
beyond Hollywood torture.
But it happens…
And then you would trade any body part
For release, any intervention--
Whether blessed narcotic
Or the simplicity
Of a loaded revolver.
Most often you survive,
Turning away from knowledge
That your life could instantly
Become and insurmountable Hell
Or endless oblivion.
No need to think about that.
Life is for living.
Go about it, do new things.
Exist for the moment.
Forget all darkness.
Dismiss any thought
of that patient grave.
