MY SYNCOPE CELEBRATIONS AT THE AGE OF 88
Awake while asleep rattles
my brain, as I sometimes fall
and get my head bashed in.
Dehydration can magnify
my fear of annihilation
hidden in a word salad
of confabulated ejaculations.
New and old ideas crisscross
in forgotten synaptic threads
like hunger pangs that originate
piggy-backs on fiery red prongs
designed to hammer out
one lucky forgotten horseshoe.
Reading between the lines
of ancient scriptures taught me
I’m not as blessed as every monkey
in a tree, who may never have to know
when his life may be coming to an end.