Long-Lived - Dec 26 2023

 

Long-Lived

Dec 26 2023

We are long-lived people.

But both parents

in their final years

were clouded by dementia.

Something I fear

every time a name slips my mind

I have trouble retrieving a word.

Both of which

seem to be occurring

more and more of late.

Granted, I’ve struggled with names all my life.

And the words almost always return

given sufficient distraction

the passing of time.

Nevertheless, I feel sure

I’m fated to forget myself.

Would the feeling be any worse

knowing how long I have to live?

The exact date of death

fixed;

circled in bright red

followed by nothingness,

endless blank pages

all the way down.

So much better not to know.

To be able to cling

however unreasonably

to the delusion of immortality.

But Alzheimer's

seems an absolute certainty.

Which may be a mercy

if I'm utterly lost,

but a terrible end

if any shred

of insight is left.

Or even moments

when a dormant synapse sparks

and I rise up out of the fog

in confusion and despair.

I suppose the price to pay

for the privilege of longevity.

Nothing's certain, of course,

but the portents don't favour me.

Will I wish for death?

Will I suffer with self-awareness?

Or will I be untethered

from the burden of memory

with a chance to reinvent myself?

A second childhood.

A hopeful innocence.

A soft landing

in simple oblivion

for those who live long

but don't end well.

I started to write a piece about my lifelong trouble with names, threw out my first tentative line, and immediately found myself going in an embarrassingly typical direction: what I can only admit (clearly evident, if you've been reading any of my stuff!) is a morbid preoccupation with both ageing and death. My subconscious talking, I guess!

Nevertheless, I think it turned out well. And once again, I seem so much more comfortable with this prose-like conversational style. I suspects the gate-keepers of academic poetry would look down their noses at this. But also suspect that readers like it. The word “accessible” comes to mind. Which always reminds me of something I heard Billy Collins say: that he much prefers “hospitable”, because “accessible” sounds too much like a highway on-ramp!