[the Writing of Kuypers][JanetKuypers.com][Bio][Poems][Prose]

this is what it means

my son was shot
now he lives in his wheelchair
I hear him creek as he rolls down the hall

he’s a brave boy
it takes him such great strength to live
he always smiles

he can’t feel from the waist down
but he works so hard
he is so proud

once I came home
and he was so excited
you see, he took a rope

and a laundry basket
filled them up with snacks;
now he could

drag his snacks to his room
this was an accomplishment
he was so proud of himself

I held back my tears
he shouldn’t have to go through this
this is not how he should live

people don’t understand
when he has a bowel movement
he has to

reach inside of him
and pull it out
he can’t feel

this is what it means
for him to be in a wheelchair
to not feel

U.S. Government Copyright
Chicago Poet Janet Kuypers
on all art and all writings on this site completed
before 6/6/04. All rights reserved. No material
may be reprinted without express permission.

Blister and Burn, Janet Kuypers 2007 book