as a young boy

as a young boy
(or at least closer to my youth than now)
laying, distraught with
bright
lights
in hospital bed;

young nursing student
stood above me with
voluptuous breasts hanging
over my face-

“How do you feel Mark?”

my whole body ached
with contempt for itself,
at every given moment
I had felt like bursting
into tears and profanities
because my youth didn’t
always feel much for the better;

but with something
as marvelous as this to distract,
who was I to retort:

(sigh) “I’m feeling fine, thanks.”