Sunday, January 11, 2009

He Can't Hear You

-- It's debatable whether or not people in comas can hear you.  Here's someone who doesn't believe it's possible. --

He can't hear you

Don't worry
Say whatever you want
Tell him he looks fat
God knows he does
He can't hear you

He can't hear music
I play everything
And anything
And he can't hear

You don't believe me?

I played Tony Orlando
Do you know what he would do
If he could hear Tony Orlando?

He would jump
Right out of that hospital bed
And let out a primal scream
That would make the woman one bed over
Tear out the stitches
In her abdomen

He can't hear you

I used to pray
I'd sit here and pray with him
For him
About him
Whatever

Lot of good that did
I'm still a Catholic
But I don't feel it does much
Not when you're lying a coma
Not when you're practically dead

Oh don't shush me!
He can't hear you

Hand me that People magazine.

Thank you.

He can't hear you
He can't hear me
He can't hear anybody

He can't hear
He can't move
He can't communicate
Or twitch
Or move his toes
Like in the movies

He can't hear the nurses
Talking about As the World Turns
He can't hear the doctors
Quizzing the interns
On what's wrong with him
He can't hear my mother
Telling me I should have married someone
Who had the good sense
Not to walk into traffic

She exaggerates as usual
That's just her way

Have I read this People magazine before?
I think I have
Hand me another one
Doesn't have to be a People
Just don't give me the really artsy ones
The one with the cartoons on the front
That only talks about Obama
I only want to read about Obama
If they're talking about what his wife's wearing
Or what kind of puppy he's going to adopt

What's that one?
Woman's Day?
Close enough

I used to read to him
I'd read about Brad and Angelina
I'd read about Miley Cyrus
I'd read about Beyonce
And he'd just lay there
Not that I blame him

It's not exactly college literature
Like my daughter Kayla says I should read to him
Pride and what's-it and all's that
I told her when she turns him over
So that he doesn't get bedsores
Then she can read whatever she wants

Until then
I'm sticking with whoever Sandra Bullock is married to these days
And what Paula Abdul wears to the Grammys

That woman is a mess
Isn't she such a mess?
I think she's a mess

Tsk tsk tsk
Tsssk Tsssk Tsssk
Tssssssssssssssssk

That's all I have to say

What is that?
Is that soy sauce?
Get that away from him
He might smell it
I know he can't hear
But he might be able to smell
And soy sauce used to make him vomit
I don't want a man in a coma
Vomiting on me
Get it away

But yeah
Say whatever you want
He can't hear you

It's sort of comforting
I find
If you think about it

He can't hear crying
He can't hear you
When you're begging him to come back
Hearing you say you can't do it alone
That you're so lonely
You just want to die

He can't hear you
When you tell him you want to give up
That you can't afford the bills
That they're piling up
That the hospital's reviewing your case
For financial aid
But that it's not looking good

He can't hear
When you tell him about all that's changing
That the kids have gotten older
That the neighbors moved
That the condolence cards
Have stopped rolling in

. . . . .

That you might not be in love anymore
When he finally wakes up
And that you're not sure if it would be wrong
To move on

That you're scared you could wait forever
For life to start again
And that you blame him a little
For making this hell your life

He can't hear you
He can't hear a word you say
But I hope he can hear something else
I hope he can hear music
That's not Tony Orlando
I hope he can hear Kayla's laughter
Right before she became a bitchy college sophomore
I hope he can hear me saying our vows
Even though I couldn't say them now if I tried

I hope he's happy
Somewhere in there
With every ounce of hope in my body
I hope he's happy

I hope somebody is

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