The Tumble Poem

 

 

You had to break two of my ribs just to move my heart

But that is what the chest compressions require.

Your mouth on mine then you break my chest to pieces

I was in the hospital for weeks and out of kindness

You came to visit me. You saw the machine and the lines

Plugged into my veins, the red snake on the monitor

Proof of my heart, a broken heart, but it’s close enough

 

A box with sections keeping me sane

A nurse with charts declaring me lame

A doctor with hands pressing my neck

A couple of ribs stealing my breath

 

You gave me a heart attack but I was aware 

There are risks involved with any sport, I’m old

My knees don’t move like they used to and my eyes

Don’t see you no more. A song for you and it’s ruined my voice

It’s ruined my eyes and wasted my choice it’s the most

predictable story told in with the new out with the old.

 

You’re a cowboy without a horse or a gun or a reason

You’ve broken the law with murder,  theft, treason

You’re running now through windless deserts

Telling truths and stealing dreams

You left your horse with me, tethered

to an empty water trough by a tree

In an abandoned town with tumble weed

And whisky instead of water