Velocity Meets Earth 4/14/03
Memory’s fingers grope
into the blackness of
unconsciousness:
My heart floods blood
that jerks open my lids.
Pain goes unnoticed for
lustrous-swept phantoms
are all I see, diverting
attention from my condition.
Trying to turn over, I find armies
of resistance within my own body.
Straining for focus unreachable,
A freshly perceived pressure
Swells within my face.
Abandoned attempts at simple questions,
aborted at the gates of exile,
Forced silent by swollen tongue.
Sweeping movements overwhelm
the senses; I fail to stay awake.
Open again, bright blindness
Smeared crimson is my world.
I think I’m alive, would heaven
be so dull and numb?
My brother— I must be alive.
Muffled whoosh resembling trains
and giant moths, transform into weak
recognition of family’s speech and voices.
Accidents are for drunks and aged,
I’m neither. I’m told to prepare for
six week mush, dentures, and straws.
Thoughts spin in a whirlwind, but I
manage to catch one, a rowdy one:
“At least I won’t have to brush.”
-Matthew Harri
Recounting my feelings after a bad motorcycle crash.
