The Thought Of It

It beats the alternative

They say, I say,

Getting older

First crawling, then running

Sunning then blocking

Days of, “What did

I come in here for?” and

Mornings of “Ow! What the hell was that?”

The thoughts of “it”

Buzzing in my head

Like a fly caught between sills

Will tomorrow be “it”?

Next year?

When will “it” be “it”?

Hopefully amid my day-chasing

I will remind myself

There is still a “right now”

That is, if I remember where I put it

My body is falling

I watch it dropping every day

The lines on my face grow deep and longer,

Up the block and around the corner

The gray, appearing like snow,

And my hair will soon become a blizzard

The Thought of It

First appeared in the

Collection The Fruit of Falling Down

Xlibris, 2003