Alan Harris
“PICC-Line,” “Bird’s Eye View"
While others spend time in bars looking for something that resembles inspiration, I hang out in nursing homes and hospices. I pull up a commode chair and listen to friends who have just started to break in a new hospital bed. I write down everything I hear. I especially pay attention to the raw emotions. They are easy to find. Some days the ostomy bag is half full but often it’s half empty. I convert these late-life conversations into verse—unapologetically prosy and preachy. Such is each muse I am honored to listen to.
Bird’s-Eye View draws our attention to the lack of communication many patients sense between themselves and the medical community. It’s not always warranted, but it feels real nonetheless. I listen to stories and narratives at life’s end. I hear both the frustrations as well as the insightful reflections of an endgame well-played.
PICC-Line describes our bodies as presumed property. Unfortunately situations may arise when we are treated like an inanimate case-study. Sometimes we are not free to return home. We put on ill-fitting paper-thin gowns; they take away our clothes, the keys to our car. We wonder about things we have never thought about before—is this how the end begins?
Bird’s-Eye View draws our attention to the lack of communication many patients sense between themselves and the medical community. It’s not always warranted, but it feels real nonetheless. I listen to stories and narratives at life’s end. I hear both the frustrations as well as the insightful reflections of an endgame well-played.
PICC-Line describes our bodies as presumed property. Unfortunately situations may arise when we are treated like an inanimate case-study. Sometimes we are not free to return home. We put on ill-fitting paper-thin gowns; they take away our clothes, the keys to our car. We wonder about things we have never thought about before—is this how the end begins?
