I am Building a Brace

 

I am Building a Brace

I am building a brace for the front porch
of my brother who is on the other side
of that door listening with headphones
to a recording of Chinese poetry
(in Mandarin, which he understands)
while he is dying, slowly,
brain cell by brilliant brain cell
in that rocking chair whose joints
are creaking, coming undone.

He no longer remembers his phone number
or how to count change at the grocery store.
He is in denial of any problem
as he grows younger, ever younger
shedding years like snake skins
while the crack in the porch grows wider,
ever wider, so out here in rain
I set four-by-fours upright as posts,
I lift four-by-eights as beams on my shoulder
    gripped by my hands
    pushing with my legs
    transferred through my spine
    anchored by my feet
as the useless joists of the deck
drop termite shit onto my eyebrows
like taunts of children:
    nya nya you can’t fix this.
But I can brace it for a while.

Long enough, at least
for my brother to forget ten languages.
I will repair that rocking chair.
I will buy diapers, rubber sheets,
install grab bars in the shower.
I won’t let his porch collapse.
I simply won’t.

……

From my book Random Saints
First published in Verse-Virtual
Photo by me of my brother Ed

Note: I wrote this poem after a hard day at my brother’s house. The porch, and my brother Ed, held on for a long time.