Movie Star

What he thinks about often
is a scene from a movie
he hasn’t seen that is not yet in 
release, but is nonetheless familiar:

the stone in his chest,
no larger than a heart,
holds him on his back
on the floor.

There was time once
to deal with the stone,
to unflutter the heart,
to clear the paths.

Time’s still a factor
but not a friend.  Now,
he’s feeling the stone
grow immense.

It has grown large enough
to compress the lungs,
shade the brain, and finally
to cover the light.  

He has to confess 
it’s a pretty good flick.
It has a certain sense
of justice. A certain sense

of preordainment
he recalls whenever
the pain cuts
into his left arm

for a second or two 
late after dinner, or while
he’s doing something
no one would call strenuous.

In the movie 
his character never goes
to the doctor
and neither does he —

that would be too much like 
fast forwarding to within
fifteen minutes of the end
and claiming to have watched it all.