Lying in his
   hospital bed,
         my uncle is
something
   condemned
         and roped off.
His mouth
   sags
         like a warped
porch. His
   eyebrows
         are shutters
long overdue
   for repairs.
         His unshaved
stubble—
   mildew collecting
         on façade.
Cancer squats
   in the
         basement
of him.
   Chemo
         runs up
the stairs
   inside.
         Something
yellow
   loosens
         the plywood
from his eyes
   to peek out
         the windows.