The man I saw yesterday playing gin
Slumps mumbling on the bed edge,
His brain bleeding,
Right arm twitching in lamplight
As his daughters stare
From the doorway.
I catch his quickening
Pulse
But can no longer look except out the window,
Where the moon has not yet risen
And the ditchdiggers have gone home
And cars stream across concrete,
Their headlight glow
Brighting out the stars.
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Cooper, A.Z. Lacunar. J GEN INTERN MED 33, 2256 (2018). https://doi.org/10.1007/s11606-018-4646-9
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DOI: https://doi.org/10.1007/s11606-018-4646-9