Thursday 3 December 2009

THURSDAY 3rd DECEMBER 2009.

I’m 43 years old, 6‘2 tall, 230 pounds.
Shortsighted and slightly deaf in my right ear,
Although I have been both for 30 years.
I have a plate in my mouth with 4 false teeth, top front,
The victims of bad genes, removed when I was sixteen.
My lower rack is held in place with plaque and currently
The members on the left of my mouth’s chamber are inflamed.
My hair is slightly receding, although there are no apparent
Bald spots yet, and will probably soon be whiter than my smile.
My frame has always been a little stooped and my knees knock
When I cook, which I enjoy as much as writing.

As a teenager I experienced great angst
And suffered from a genuine belief in solipsism and
The possibility that I might murder somebody, or even
Myself. Education never failed me; I abandoned it and
Subsequently wandered into work I disliked. I eventually
Found I could handle Shipping and forwarding concerns and
A few good ports called. My love life, after starting ideally, fell
Foul of reality’s announcements and I travelled far and wide for
Labour and a wife, but after finding them I found neither were
Quite right, although my son was the result of both and I have
Betrothed myself to his well being until I crumble.

But to be fair I have no ill health. Diabetes
Has seen fit to leave me alone and my cholesterol is low;
No asthma or allergies, no hay fevers or aches, no muscle pains,
No pills popped or drugs used and though alcohol and cigarettes
Bet me I can’t, I fucking could quit them if I wanted to. A slight heart
Flutter when I’m sober, a wart in an awkward place and a recently
Discovered abdominal pain, along with occasional gout, are my
Great doubts. And of course my son has made me a better man to
Face my remaining days, and death has made me stronger even as it
Took my father, and I have now left myself upon this list to let you
Know as much of me as there has ever been to know.

3 comments:

  1. Portrait of an artist as a not-so-young man? :). I enjoyed this very much, a very poetically rendered limning of self.

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  2. Absolutely sober. I need a gulp of whatever it is you're drinking. Bet you could do an Andy Warhol type thing w/thousands of poems from a thousand different dizzying perspectives. We suffered similar teenage insanities. Every speck, every crumb of every thing was fat with meaning. Thank God I'm all grown up now :)

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  3. I could've lived without the knowledge of the wart. But, thanks for sharing so much! ;)

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