Alz Is Not Well
The stranger in the mirror says:
Alz is not well
Those grey hairs alzways lose twenty-something
track of time ...
can’t tell when he’s at,
where he last slept
Or how he fell
My sixty-ish seconds of elusive,
lucid thought
wanna know why
am I wearing bottoms
shaped like a bell
As this bruised sanity,
so mnemonic frail,
vainly cling to the psychedelic notion
that these reminiscing eyes
are seeing swell
Alz is definitely not well
Got a funhouse mirror of the mind,
giving me the strangest
distortions of time
Had a spring dew wedding yesterday!
But my closest, unfamiliar kin repeatedly tell me,
my winter wife dearly passed away
ten years ago —
The wrinkled tears seasonally show,
120 new moon recall cycles
that ebb and flows
It alzways bothers me,
how it can be
that cherished memories
vanish like vapor
Sunset forgetfulness dawns so easily
Like the mist on the mirror,
which that vaguely familiar stranger breathe
As the nauseating fog of forgetfulness
uneasily dissipates once more,
I'm beginning to slowly understand
why it is, that blank expression reflection
in the mirror I do alzways abhor
It’s got my precious recollections evaporating,
these memento thoughts disappearing —
Such a queasy, erasure sensation
This fading identity illness
is a sickly feeling
I'm slowly beginning to comprehend
Alz is not well ... or ending well
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