You know what I'm
like when I'm sick: I'd sooner
curse than cry. And people don't often
know what they're saying in the end.
Or I could die in my sleep.
So I'll say it now. Here it is.
Don't pay any attention
if I don't get it right
when it's for real. Blame that
on terror and pain
or the stuff they're shooting
in my veins. This is what I wanted to
sign off with. Bend
closer, listen, I love you.
Alden Nowan, Do Not Go Gentle: Poems for Funerals (Bloodaxe, 2003)
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