If I were to get to a ripe
Old age and sit on bedsore
Preventive armchairs
In nursing homes manned by
Nurses from distant shires (or shores)
During my brief moments of
Lucid thought caught
Between continents of confusion
As I struggle for continence
I would like to remember
The way my boy's nose tip
Sweats like a puppy dog's when
He is fast asleep
And the way my heart soars
As I brush my little girl's hair
And if possible
On good days
top it off
top it off
With the memory
of those
Slender hands
delicately perched
in my
Ugly paw
That beauty
To my beast
And then it would be time for my nourishment
Puréed vegetables
Laced with cholesterol pills
