his chances today are in the low 30s-
          he's already decided he's going to survive
  this fatal illness.

       he's not happy the way he is:
  [doesn't feel like me: i'm someone else fading.]

        life is not beautiful from behind an oxygen mask,
                out of a hospital window,
                         without paint and canvas and colours.

[on the corner endtable, orchids divert his eyes from the bleak ECG.
           arrhythmia again; help me, i can't- ]

    the thought hasn't yet crossed his mind that this
          is  t e m p o r a r y ; fleeting.
  {it'll be over soon.}

      with intravenal sorrow, 500mg of faith and
             340/60 AGONY-
                   he prays, tears falling:
     god in heaven! don't let it be over so soon:
           let time stand still---

[and
    away from this trauma,
       the office on Perish Street is alive.]