this is not so bad

they move him
from the I C U
to a room in a hospice
for full time care.

his head wrapped where they
cut into his skull
to stop the bleeding.

his teeth are back in,
he's smoking again.

more chemo to come.

they can't kill him, nor
can he kill
himself.

he's invincible. coated
with the hard
shell of youth, of bad parents,
bad luck
and bad decisions.

he stares out the window
at the woods
and remembers living
there,
down by the creek, by
a fire, wrapped in the only'
things he owned.

this here, he thinks,
is not so bad. the tubes
and wires an annoyance,
but what the hell. it's a
bed with clean sheets,
a room with a view.

what's for lunch, he asks
the pretty nurse
as she walks in smiling
with a tray of hot food.