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on Apr 11th 2002, 02:40:45, Jaime Fradera wrote the following about


I am in the hospital.
The Bossy Nurse tells me
to start my own IV.
I have no idea what to do.
Clumsily, awkwardly,
I fumble, dropping, breaking something,
and blood starts gushing from a hose.
My blood is warm and sticky,
smells of chlorine and dead fish,
has the putrid stench
of watery decay;
makes me think of drowning
in a heated indoor pool.
The Bossy Nurse sneers,
»That's blood, isn't itI still don't know what to do.

My sister is in town.
She comes to see me in the hospital,
invites me to go out with friends;
but when I rise to go with her,
a forest of IV lines restrain me.
I could lose more blood.
She is playing records on a sterio,
stuff from the sixties and seventies.
The songs follow each other
in smooth, uninterrupted flow.
I play another record,
a documentary of Mexico
narrated by my Dad.
I wonder how to get
more of these beautiful records ...
and if he's still making them? ...
Then I remember Dad is dead.
I ask my sister for an explanation,
but she is gone.

a woman's moving in with me.
Nobody asked about this ...
I can hear her in the shower,
singing, humming to herself.
She comes to me,
cool, and damp,
smelling soapy and clean.
She tells me that she really loved
that record I was playing,
but I am wary of her.
a caretaker? ...

Sound track:
The Carpenters
We’ve Only Just Begun


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