Dare I Chart My Own Decline? - Poem by David McLansky
Dare I chart my own decline?
I see a face not wholly mia
Eyes wide with fear and quaking terror.
I speak, i'm told I spoke in error
Oh twisted mouth of broken teeth,
Thin tight lips compressed with grief.
Where is the mocking face of joy,
The relaxed visage of the boy’
The learn’ed face of the man
Who studied life with such élan;
This haunted face, eyes wride with fear
Obs=ssed with fate: a skull will leer; .
The harried face, strained, life debased;
The body brings its own disgrace.
I stumble forward like a child
My humiliation masked by a foolish smile;
I stand desperate with the urge to pee.
No longer confident of my own self mastery.
My daily triumph is that I make it to the bowl,
That I do not live with the manners of a troll;
That I still urinate with accuracy and true aim;
For that puddle on the floor I'm not to blame;
There is a loss of dignity in old age
No shame is unfamiliar to the sage.
Is it my fate and ultimate triumph in the end,
That I sleep throughout the night without a Depend.
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