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Choices were always a problem.

Like furniture in a dark room.
If you remembered your course
there would be no stubbed toes.
No coffee tables sneaking up on you.

Avoidance was my motto

It had all changed with the stop of a breath
watching that rubber bag being pressed
into tired lungs
it was the world that lay before me
on antiseptic white
the person who gave me definition
and molded who I was to become 


      The HippoCRITIC Oath wrapped in a white coat
      exhaling freon,
      dangling a chart
      of predicted possible futures
      strolled up

     “The brain has been denied more than 15 minutes
       what shall it be,
       the bag or do we hook him up?”


Visions streamed into consciousness
of GI Joes perfectly posed
for a boy needing a wall for support
just to sit

I saw the eternal smile
and the selfless concern of others
in spite of this genetic monster
eating muscles from this gift of the light

I watched the twenty-year count down
coming to an end
and remembered his fear of hospitals

and made the choice