Toes will be the first to go, Then the foot, then the leg, Until, without family, I slow Down, pirouette upon a peg, Entering the country of the lame, Wishing I was a video game.
I see the future and it is not me, Unknown, unread, and full of despair. Who would have thought that poetry Could pay the nurses for my care. It’s no joke when there’s no cash, Scrounging food from the trash.
1 comment:
LOOK TO YOUR FEET, SO FAR OFF
Toes will be the first to go,
Then the foot, then the leg,
Until, without family, I slow
Down, pirouette upon a peg,
Entering the country of the lame,
Wishing I was a video game.
I see the future and it is not me,
Unknown, unread, and full of despair.
Who would have thought that poetry
Could pay the nurses for my care.
It’s no joke when there’s no cash,
Scrounging food from the trash.
[Disposable Poem April 29, 2010]
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