Wes and I move through his folder and move to two years ago and move into the hospital, the hospital bed, the white sheets, the white walls, his chest a-flame, fever through body, fire of the mind, pneumonia lodged in the damp dark of his lungs, and turbulence, turbulence, like a demon, driving him toward the fiery gates—of hell or heaven he does not know—the white-hot light of angels; the roaring furnace burns, oh burns! this fiery Death! this fiery Alive!
and Wes here on the oversized straight back chair says
I did not like the tube
   the attempts they made to make sure I reemerged
      I disliked it so much I pulled it out
         and they gave me a name—dangerous patient
            —uncooperative
and Wes here says
the unknown darkness of illness
   from which other acquaintances I have known have never emerged
      hallucinations are what this set of experiences produces.
         hallucination, dementia and I was learning on the job.

Hallucinations as bright as daylight, and his daughter Kaitlin appeared beside him, which couldn’t be possible, she lives in Germany must have been on the phone (she is visiting in September so I can ask her) Kaitlin as clear as day, calling it could be a dove, the dove swept down, Kaitlin at his beside, Kaitlin says, Kaitlin says don’t go Dad we need you.
   Did it turn me back?
      it was like an enchanted sleep
         what what where where
            fire of the mind
               what turned me back?
                  cool hand of Christ.