[ToC]

 

MY POOR HEART

Eric Kocher

So plagued by cholesterol
and disease.  I am reminded of

each small word that makes it through to the other side,
this side, this painfully visible world.

If you eat right, if you move often enough
and quickly, certainly

at least some things can be avoided.

We all know this is not true.  No matter
how many egg-whites, how much potassium,
here is this machine programmed to fail

and to fail spectacularly.  In each body,
in each of our movements

there is the wake of a hundred others,
and so we must imagine,

and consider quite carefully
how we will be mourned.  How we slowly build
the monster
that one day kills us.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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I wrote this poem after eating a bacon-grilled-cheese in front of my father who is in the middle of the most successful diet of his life.