[from the Crab Sonnets] br br They sank a silver zipper in my chest: br a foot of snag-toothed staples used to chain br the cavity where cancer bloomed its yeast. br The lovely morphine drips: I don't complain. br I feel aloof; the nurses glide like ghosts, br their chat like crinkled cellophane: I sway br upon an inner stalk each time I'm dosed. br The lights stay on to keep it day all day. br br A voice in surplice hints I'm deeply hurt, br provisional, as rumored in my blood. br My tongue feels bronzed; I try but fail to blurt br against demeaning signs of likelihood- br a gullet's a hard barter for a cure. br I'll bite down hard, disjunctively endure.