staying alive

your mother's feet
look like maine lobsters.
red and swollen.
her baby blue slippers
barely squeezed
onto her sausage toes.
she needs her blood thinning
medicine, her Coumadin,
adjusted again.
the undersides
are chalky and dotted
with what looks like
barnacles.
it's not exactly the Waldorf
Astoria of senior homes,
but they bake a nice
pan of corn bread
and apple pie,
the health and welfare
of the tenants
are an after thought,
it seems.
they just try to keep them
breathing, keep the checks
coming in, keep them
alive.