Cracked Me Up.

This is what you would call a half brazilian.

Or this is what happens when you run out of hot wax and wax paper.

I’m not kidding. This was written on the board on Medical Ward.  I was probably delirious from lack of sleep or the fact that this IS my 10th day in a row at work that I cracked up, took a picture and started telling EVERYONE about it.

Some people found it hilarious, i.e. Haha, Poet, that’s really funny!

Some looked at me with a really bored expression and said, “Poet, you’ve got too many hours in your day.”

Le sigh.

On a different note, I saw someone die today.

I watched his heart rate monitor flutter, falter, then drop and the finally flatline. His family was crying and they kissed him goodbye. In between movements of relatives that bent down to kiss his wrinkled forehead, I saw a pale white body lying still in bed with a mask on his face.

I felt like crying. I felt the sadness in the room. The family hugged each other and whispered their goodbyes. Dabbing their eyes with tissues and sleeves, they padded down the hallway and left the intensive care unit.

I answered the phone call from the funeral home asking about the “late Mr K. and his consequent arrangements.”

Funny how they make it sound as though he’s late. For an appointment. For a meeting. For a gathering.  For lunch. For a game of bowls.

And as I left, I turned to look at Mr K one last time and the nurses were removing the leads. It looked as though they were ripping wires off a piece of meat.

This sounds really cruel and heartless to say but that was all he appeared to be. He wasn’t a husband, that thing on the bed. He wasn’t a father or a grandfather or a brother or an uncle. He was a piece of flesh and bone.

For those who don’t believe in a soul, they need to take a good look at a person before and after life.

It’s late and I’ve got work. But I’ve also got dance and its going to be awesome.

Laterz.