How the Body Prepares Itself
My death is close enough now
that it corrupts the smells
and flavors of the world
and plants its swollen face
at the edge of every
view and vista.
So this is how the body
prepares itself to leave—
by spoiling the here and now
with chronic ill at ease.
that it corrupts the smells
and flavors of the world
and plants its swollen face
at the edge of every
view and vista.
So this is how the body
prepares itself to leave—
by spoiling the here and now
with chronic ill at ease.
Chronic illness is like a bad lover.*
*
Those last two are sublime.
Struck a chord here.*
Similar to my morning thoughts, Gary. *
Actually read this one last night. Still thinking of it. "chronic ill at ease." Yes.
Good poem - and a perfect closing:
by spoiling the here and now
with chronic ill at ease
Wish I'd written those lines. *
It started early for me, the ill-at-easeness. Brings back the line from Catch-22--Doc Danika maybe? "I wouldn't want to live without strong misgivings." Comforting, somewhat, in this context. *****
*, Gary. Maybe forcing a contemplation of possible things ahead.
yikes! *
oh my.*
Excellent.
Thank you all for your generous responses.
Check out Donald Hall's Essays After Eighty, G. 80 he says is extraterrestrial.
Thank you, Lucinda. Based on my experience with parent and parents in law, extraterrestrial is about right.
Gary, this is so powerful, deep and intense. Lingers long after reading, like a potent fragrance. Among your best! *
*
Thank you, Ray