I’d never heard you groan like this
It used to be an almost peaceful lamento
Only troubled by a sudden brief eructation
Then a sharp spitting
And then back to conversation.

For about two minutes on the phone
The moaning grew intensively
Changing into an always higher peak
Of manifest suffering.
I waited for the distant sound
Of your liberating sputum
But it wouldn’t come.
And I stood there at my window,
Shocked and fascinated
By this raging wave never coming down
As the seconds lasted longer
To the violent noise of your spreading cancer
But it didn’t scare me
I just wasn’t too sure
How serious it might be, not seing your face.

« Dead serious, man »
And still, that boiling bluesy voice
Resonated so powerful
That I wanted to record it
It was regular, almost musical
Were you trying to shake me,
Or repel me ?
It wasn’t like « leave me alone »
More like « remember this groan »
I think you were trying to wake me up
And I needed this
You called me back five minutes later
As if nothing happened,
Rational,
« You can come by later, even with the doctor around »
Death is never too considerate,
But you are, my friend.
See you quite soon.