Two Poems by Ben Rasnic

At the Cafe

Notes scribbled
on cheap paper napkins
sometimes grow wings
to form poems,

sometimes condense
illegibly, a blue ink blotter
beneath an ice chilled mug
of Molson Golden.


As the young nurse
in the azure blue scrubs
scans the barcode
embedded in my white plastic
wristband, I am paralyzed
by the debilitating sense
of complete helplessness.

Buried beneath networks
of tentacled gray cables
fastened to snap
electrode patches pasted
across my shaved chest,

purple splotches tattoo
the crook of my forearms wired
to clear plastic bags dripping
a cocktail of saline
& crystalloids
into these bruised & battered
desiccated veins.

Soon they will be firing jolts
of electric current
into my atrial fibrillated
arrhythmic heart,

my twilight consciousness
levitating like a wispy fog
into the ice blue
stucco sky.


Originally from Jonesville, Va., Ben Rasnic currently resides in Bowie, Maryland. Author of four published collections (three available from, Ben’s poems have been nominated for Best of the Net and the Pushcart Prize.

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