Cirrhosis isn’t half as bad
As maladies you might have had.
A failing liver strains the muscles
But liberates the red corpuscles.
When voided kidneys soak one’s dollies,
Relief, like spasms, comes in volleys.
Rope-severed cords force coded silence,
Deterring tongues from false compliance.
Lung injuries from mustard gas
Loose sprinkles on Death’s demitasse.
Torn ligaments beneath your bruises
Yield percs for opiated snoozes.
A scalpel, swallowed in mid-seizure,
Can point the way to lifelong leisure.
Wee hemophiliacs who stumble
Bring joy to cutthroats prone to fumble.
The tendency to swallow tacks
Inks spittle to a sputtered fax.
Cribs fraught with sanguine complication
Are catapults of grave elation.
Brief candle!, melting with distress,
You’ll harden soon with seal’s impress.
–Robert C. Hardin
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Mr. Death Meets Johnny, drawing by Leslie Hardie
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Drawings Poetry