ALZ
They sear through the mind like falling stars,
these notions that will not stay, so maybe
we’re in for some heavy Alz? — names,
concepts, words blink out, oh this
goes beyond mere memory crashes, this
is what-do-they-call-it? erosion, whole
weather systems crumble the rock
on which a life was built, odd winds
waltz meanings off and dazed you lumber
after some last flying grains of sense,
no fun for the wife spooning Cream of Wheat
to a flabby puss, plus never again
to make a sale, or flirt with a waitress,
and what will we Alzes dream? Silent movies.
Of course. But once those fade to white
what hope for a sequel with A-list casting,
what possible chance for a Hollywood ending
denying the white-out sadness of loss?
30