A Poem by Ulrich Wendt

Six Conversations about Pain

Three is where I’m at now.
Five is the most they give.
It’s best to start with one or two
and end with five.

When Jennifer got this far,
she still resisted the morphine.
It made her all befuddled
and her husband didn’t like it.

I never drank,
not even wine at Christmas.
But three is where I’m at.

Thanks for dropping by.
I need a witness to the will.
Please initial every page but not too low.
The Xerox tends to cut things off.

Excuse the way I look.
At least the hair’s still mine.
This time I didn’t do the chemo
– what’s the use?
Last time it fell in hunks
and I’m vainglorious.

It’s good to be alive.
Three is where I’m at.

© Ulrich Wendt, November, 2007