The North Wind

You wonder how long
it can go on--holes
in your legs that bleed,

muscles wasting, tremors,
the high execution
of spasms so great

they make you seize:
you go to another
world without light.

Strangers and ever those

you really know don't
understand the extent of it all—

Woke up this morning
to pain and blood
everywhere.  You can't

lie any more.
You wish you knew, that
they all knew

how you had to
rush home to stop
The bleeding

from the inguinal
femoral notch, finding
a great cyst & a fistula

tunneling deeply
into you inner thigh
Where bones meet,

infected.  You cannot
really walk but you
do anyway.  Hip

rotting, lymph nodes
large as small grapes.
No cancer yet.  Just fear

now, and the other
present demon,
who's worse, far meaner—

He plants in your
body an unbelievable
chemical that turns

muscles and tendons
into hard, inflexible
ropes.  Knotted

this way, you knew
one day there was
no way out of this mess:

you are a ghost
made of glass now.  A river
spirit without the river

forever swollen & punctured

 waiting for your body
to tighten like a great belt

of steel.  Caught
In the north wind,
gasping for air, trying

to stop the bleeding.  Your
body.  Not there any more
except for the shadow

that’s you
to everybody else.
The man.  Covered for life.