Practical Tips For Apnea Management

Woke up thrashing,
throat on full choke,
hands throwing war shapes.
I ask the night,

if breathing were simpler
who would I be?  If nights
were easier and uninterrupted
who would I be?

Comes a voice:

Don’t blame
the blocked back of your throat
or the subsequent storm
in your enzymes

for the look on the front of your head:
that’s no mask.
There’s no other hiding
inside your illnesses.  By all the signs,

you’re a bastard.  
By your age
almost everyone who’s left
is.  All this sound and rage

is real, is impotent,
is yours.  Own it
and stop moaning for your other self:
there’s no one to be comforted there,

and you know it.  
You’re a complete bastard.
Embrace it, hold it tenderly to your
lard-gray chest — and if you are going to be up,

fold some clothes,
do some dishes, because
that warrior-sickbed persona of yours
won’t get the house clean.