I’ve Become My Father

I look in a mirror and see the old man, I was told was there from fourteen years old. I’ve become my father, eyeglasses in every room so as not to waste precious time searching for them. Newspaper and magazine articles stored in boxes never to be looked at again. Poetry thoughts, written on the backs of books, scraps of paper, most times. Unable to be deciphered even by me once I get around to it. I’ve become my father, six pills a day, caffeine-free coffee, egg substitute, unable to work, new gadgets, rambling on, and on, and on. Quietly waiting for death, of which I’m not afraid of anymore.