When
I place my ear against my mother’s skull
And
listen like she’s a seashell at the seashore
I
can hear the wind howling through her bones
I’ve
been entrusted this gift and I’m going to use it now
Sit
still as a stiletto stabbing a topographic map
And
drain the pus from my Atlas Shrugged
brain stem
Maybe
I’ll strike it rich while panning for goblets of gold and empathy
Or
maybe I’ll end up at the Las Vegas Rescue Mission again
The
strip laid out before me like a Beatty treatise for another stalled movie
project
Let’s
keep this dementia between us because not all Manchurian Candidates are
ill-informed and not every garden party has Mr.
Hughes hiding in Dylan's shoes wearing his disguise
I’ve
stepped on bigger toes than yours and though there’s no doubt you could buy and
sell me what’s the bloody point when everyone ends up buried beneath mounds of
paperwork and shovelfuls of dirt
I
can hear the train imploring my mother to either make up her mind or stop being
kind and to simply call it a day
Dementia
must be taken seriously no matter how difficult it is to face
Matters
of the heart are hard enough, but when it comes to the brain too many people
consciously or unconsciously check out
My
mother is the toughest person I’ve encountered in this life and even she is
helpless at the hands of this silent killer
Charles Cicirella
9/2/17
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