i am one hundred and fifty years old already
my bones ache and my cane is brittle
i mope about the house and write old man poems
to the sound of dust on the shelves
i drink my soup without a spoon
and look back on the golden days that never were
i take cold showers and hour long baths
my friends call from time to time
but most times i can’t figure out
how to answer the god damn telephone
the mail man, he knows me
margaret on lane six at walmart, she knows me
the people through the phone, they listen to me
talk about my life, my life, my life
and the war, the war, the war
and the garden, the garden, the garden
and my wife, my wife, my wife
the edges of memories need mending
but i hold close in my mind
a picture of Sicilia, in her prime
the television and i have become too familiar
he reads the words of the stories to me
i put him on mute and read the words
i listen to the rain hitting the cluttered storm drains
i breakfast at the crack of dawn
i drink coffee and eat very little
lunch at eleven
dinner at four
at seven i turn off the t.v.
i pray beside my perfect bed
i lay me down to sleep
and i wonder
if when i close my eyes
it will be the last time
COPYRIGHT BRICE MAIURRO 2013
I love this – probably because I’m heading that way. I’ll reblog it – but I don’t think I’ll let my husband see it!
Great poetry
Reblogged this on kiwissoar and commented:
For everyone out there who’s on the slippery slopes.
I hope so much to be standing next to the stage of a rock band with my supedup walker with the seat taking great grandkids to concerts- ‘coz nana can get ‘em close to the stage – people are just stunned to see her and her walker – she has been known to run over them.. lol.. My decrepit fantasy.
You got a way of getting into the heads of people who you ain’t. Very convincing. And the voice stays so consistent. Really great stuff.
Great movies in my head!
“The edges of memories need mending.” Yes. Just yes! Love your work and thought I had subscribed, but wasn’t getting updates by email, so have just remedied that.
Woohoo!
Indeed! And, if I may add: Holla!
“i [...] write old man poems
to the sound of dust on the shelves”
Absolutely fabulous image!
I may use it as a quote in one of my next writings, and let you know about it:-))
All of it is just beautiful, and so true…
All my best, mate!
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I love this poem!! Essence of old age, “the edges of memories need mending…”, so good.
loved this. The repetition works a treat.
Thanks, Julia. It’s a simple one, but sometimes I just like to write simple ones.