May 19, 2025Poem

Sway in time

losscitymusicpoliticstimeidentity

Sway in time

Dance to a tune

What is it with death

Even the good news

Comes with a codisil

The doctor never looks you in the eye

Unless he shines a light

Staring back at him doesn’t help

He is in reboot mode

Diagnosing remotely

Telling me

That my blood pressure

Is a little elevated.

What does that even mean

Is it dangerous

Does it need treating?

Too much medication is

Not good for the organs

But neither is high blood pressure

How is it, I ask

When I exercise

Like a Trojan

Have barely enough flesh

To cover my bones

And enough muscle

To wield an axe

To the beat of a drum

And sway to the music.

I knew the answer

There is no fool

Like a repatriated drunk

An old medic

With too much regard

For himself,

Tell it to the fairies

They are a protected species

Wish it all away.

Bunkum is an overused word

Tarnished by failure

Even professional cynics

Can succumb

To a stroke.

Yes I know

This conversation is better had

With the comfort of a double scotch

Warming my hackles

Which have risen

Too high

To be healthy.

I bring it on myself

The product of a grand delusion

Age shall not wither me

The blonde at reception

Offered condolences

She obviously knows

More than I do

Which is not hard

At the last count

I knew nothing

Of significance.