Stopping CPR

is much more difficult than starting
which everyone knows how to do
so hard to admit you lost
now all that’s within your control
is what kind of exit you make
graceful and dignified versus
clumsy and chaotic

ask whether anyone has any ideas
but no one says a word
you’ve already tried all the good ideas
the only ones remaining
are the stupid ones

oh hell blast in one more round of drugs
another amp of epi another bottle of bicarb
levophed lidocaine calcium chloride
pump the chest pump the chest pump it up
shock shock shock

enough is enough
just call it
this instant
let the respiratory therapist stop squeezing the bag
let the nurse turn off the monitor
let the ward clerk call the family
thank everyone who helped everyone who tried

brace for the inevitable query
about the time of death
such silly precision
display neither anger nor frustration
nobody cares how you feel right now
find your outlet later
remember your only real qualification–
a stubborn refusal to accept limits

take comfort that you still
get pissed off when death wins

only a sore loser has the right to this job

Flavian Mark Lupinetti, a poet, fiction writer, and heart surgeon, is the author of The Pronunciation Part (2025), winner of the The Poetry Box Chapbook Contest.  Mark’s work has appeared in Barrelhouse, Bellevue Literary Review, Cutthroat, december, Redivider, ZYZZYVA, and elsewhere.  A West Virginia native, Mark lives in New Mexico.