poem of the day 02.24.09

pulse

i keep
putting hands
to my chest
and neck
and wrist
to feel my pulse
is it too slow?
too fast?
then i have
my wife do it too
one hand on my
chest
another on hers
waiting on the beats.
she says we are
the same
we are fine.
but then she says
she’s not sure
and i wonder
which is it?
we got to bed
a lot like this
our hearts beating
too slow
or too fast
but never quite right
her head on my chest
easily asleep
while i’m awake
listening to the whirl
of the fans
the night
egging on that
motherfucker
death
for one more day.