Revision: Galileo, Galileo

Galileo, Galileo

Hope you never get this page:
Your patient jumped out the window.
They are resuscitating him downstairs.

Downstairs, sidewalk flecked with gum
shining with mica
blood like thrown art
where a man learns
clouds are less dense
and sidewalks denser than flesh.

In fifth grade, we made homes for five story eggs.
We made omelets on the sidewalk.

I had just spoken with him.
He combed his beard
and asked for an apple.
I didn't tell the nurse.

Galileo, Galileo.
He tossed the chair
then became the chaser.
The roommate paints
arms spread eagle,
hair in ropes ascending
hospital gown parachute.

Why didn't you stop him?
I wonder.

Wish I noticed something,
wish he mentioned voices
wish a first floor bed was open
wish I could sleep at night.
How could it be
like fate like gravity
nothing suffices
leaving apology and guilt wanting.

You wrestle my pager from me,
tell me to go home.

Galileo, Galileo.
Good night.