print previewback BRUCE BOND
Scar 26
When a bone breaks, it could be worse.
You could go numb with shock and say, it could
be worse. You might shiver from the jaws
of life, your heart gone racing in the wild.
The rubied beacon on the hook and ladder,
the medical mask, you see them now as props
in a movie where every victim is you. You
feel their pain and know it as theirs alone.
The sudden announcement of your ligament
and spleen, it stupefies. Sobers. Binds.
When a body breaks, a stranger comes forward
from the theater dark. The movie ends,
life begins. A man leans his face to yours
to ask. How many fingers. What’s your name. 