Lower function (a poem)

Hands or Feet?

This disease does not discriminate.

It is an equal opportunity destroyer.

You don’t get a choice .

It just does what it does

With random precision.

A have many legions on my brain stem

The doctor mentions this:

A curious fact with no implications.

Disconnected from breathing.

But the brain stem is the root.

Heartbeat or breathe?

Freeze or Flight?

What else are they thinking?

A sense it with a kindof telepathy

Small wiry woman in a lab coat

With a surprisingly strong grip.

I fill in what isn’t said

As it hangs in the air between us

You are lucky.

Hands or Feet?

But not

Heartbeat or Breathe?