The Knife that Saves

The knife that saves cannot reveal.
We grope about and sort by feel
      What has been spared
      From what was pared
By unrelenting loving steel.

A sense of self will not be missed
By those who have the gas mask kissed
      To breathe the sky
      Provided by
The anaesthesiologist.

God save them all from our demands
To save our souls with sterile hands
      And bring us peace
      With our release
From monitors and I.V. stands.

At last it falls to us to try
At first to ask, and then reply
      As best we can,
      "Who is this man?
Who was it, then, who didn't die?"


May 6, 1999
August 29, 2000