Tuesday, October 20, 2015

Daniel Broudy writes

Morphine and Our Final Conversation: A Transcript (Dad 1921-1997)
How do you feel now?
Like an exhale
a warm breath of air
as if
in these damp sheets
I am not
really here.
Well where?
In a light
white as day
can you not see?
That was somethin’.
Never thought about
givin’ him a cloak.
now take a puff of
your cool beer, for
I feel like a happy water
spring pouring out of the
center of my chest,
hovering above me content.
To go,
I’ll wait again
to be asked but
for now
I’ll take one more
sip of that cigarette.
I don’t really want to go.
Should I give them
my name?


  1. This is the note that accompanied this submission: "Hi Duane, Not sure if this works. It may be too subjective, but I've read it before to others who've said they like it. It was/is a tribute to my dad, an effort to embody in verse the words and impressions of my last semi-coherent conversation with him before the cancer stopped his heart."

  2. This is beautiful. I appreciate you sharing your experiences with your father, especially the precious last moments you had with him. I see his comments as spiritual visions, vice drugs or the disease. He was peering into the next place. Amazing work. Thanks!

  3. Gee whiz, I love them 2 guys.


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