Big poem blog

    Ben lay in a hospital bed, wondering how he had managed to fall asleep at the wheel. He had veered off the road and plowed into an ancient oak, and his spine had shattered into a thousand pieces. After a night of intensive surgery, he had woken up in a drugged stupor to realize that the lower half of his body was completely numb and unresponsive. In effect, he was a living torso.
    Ben sighed and looked out the window as a gaggle of family members bustled around him. The autumn sun was creeping lazily through the trees, and a nauseating aroma was wafting into the room from the hallway.
    "You might as well have the doctor amputate my lower half," Ben said to no-one in particular, "that way my heart won't need to do extra work to service this useless meat."
    His brother Barney gave him a wry smile. "Ben, you'd bleed to death if you were cut in half. Think about it."
    "No, they could just cauterize the wound. That would take care of the bleeding."
    Barney stroked his chin and gazed into the corner for a few moments. "You mean like a pan-fried torso?"
    "Exactly."
    "…It's a thought. I'll ask the doctor about it. You should get some rest, Ben." Barney patted Ben on the shoulder. "By the way, now that you're--"
    Ben sagged under the blankets. The scene was pretty grim.