A Person on Business

Scare yourself. If you’re dying

As quickly as doctors said,

You’ve got a lot to get through,

And it will hurt, and will burn,

And be terrifying, so

Start practicing daily now.

The cancer, the opiates,

The nights your sleep’s demolished—

They all distort how you think,

Creating a world by turns

Confused, disoriented—

Which is what dying will do.

Might as well get used to it.

If poetry, per Ada

Limón, is the true language

Of mystery . . . the unknown,

Might as well try unknowing

On for size. In blazing sun,

Someone knocks at the west door,

Casting a shadow. Answer,

Even if they’re from Porlock.