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How To Last

I’m in a new place these days.

A little sick still,

But mostly in love

With being useful.

Feeding my injured hen

Water from a syringe

I spend my entire day

Worrying over her

Delicate, feathered body

And feel alive.

What have I learned so far

Except for that the more time passes,

The more

I do

I play

I say

I think

I inch

Farther downstream

From the mountain of my youth.

The water has been churning

For a while now,


Sand sticking between my teeth


But I use the grains as tools

To sharpen my teeth

So that when trout swim past it means


I can’t believe most of us

Prefer to eat

On average

Three times a day

Every day of our lives

And that we don’t seem to tire of it.

Our mouths still water

Watching British cooking shows

And over the course of


Our bodies process

Several tons of food

Till we’re wrinkled



And bleary-eyed.

Is it not extraordinary?

Does it not

Give you faith

That you can last?

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