Really like this, GK. While I was certainly drawn in by the images and action and flow, I spent the most time on these two lines:
"Six months, the doctor had said. / Generosity at its worst." The notion of there being a "badness" or tragic irony to the generosity of time is so well placed here.
"A cacophony of life adjacent / Within touching distance". As he continues his unstoppable slide toward death, we are invited in from the other side of that wall, where life is noisy and busy, to witness this lonely, quiet scene.
As someone whose been there for the prognosis’s of a wasting type of death and then watched it occur first hand, I identify with the grief, the way it brings other peoples including our own selves into sharper focus that’s not always flattering, and worst. The waiting. Very few people live that prognosis. They die before they’re dead.
Holy shit I’m dealing with this today bad dad with dementia and step mom is overwhelmed naturally the responsibility falls on my husband a successful theater artist and teacher for the last 40 years who was told by his father the last time we made the 6 hour drive “when you gonna stop this shit and get a real job” I feel you
Wow. Wow. So good. So moving. Thank you.
So vivid
Death waits patiently 🤍
With popcorn, most likely.
I admire the way you blend imagery and emotion in your writing. Your poems stick with me.
Appreciate you
Really like this, GK. While I was certainly drawn in by the images and action and flow, I spent the most time on these two lines:
"Six months, the doctor had said. / Generosity at its worst." The notion of there being a "badness" or tragic irony to the generosity of time is so well placed here.
"A cacophony of life adjacent / Within touching distance". As he continues his unstoppable slide toward death, we are invited in from the other side of that wall, where life is noisy and busy, to witness this lonely, quiet scene.
Thanks for this!
Thank you Scott. I appreciate you taking time not only to read the poem but to thoughtfully reply. It's very much inspiring to me.
that is good
Would love to know what hit home? Any lines grab you?
"A makeshift sarcophagus
In their front bedroom.
The lights dimmed."
Waiting in reverence for death.
I was there, i could see it, i could smell the acetone, i could feel looseness of his bones carrying him to the chair
A makeshift sarcophagus
In their front bedroom.
The lights dimmed.
The television flickered,
A cacophony of life adjacent
Within touching distance
Unsuspecting horizons moved gently
The shortest day passed with formality.
Children waited impatiently
Some of my favorite lines in the poem
Good for you! I couldn't manage. Too close to home.
This is poetry at its finest. Supremely moving. I hope I can reach this bar some day.
What a lovely compliment, what moved you about this poem?
A reflection on mortality indeed. “Six months…/ Generosity at its worst.” Poor bloke. A merciful death would come quickly, yet that wasn’t his fate.
The contrasts also jump out. “His wife was a rancid specimen of silence and bile.” The imagery here. And then “He was a good man. She was neither.”
Followed by the self-deprecation at the very end. “He was a good man. “I” was neither.” That last line lingers. Good stuff G.K.
Thank you, let's hope my neighbor doesn't ever find my substack!
As someone whose been there for the prognosis’s of a wasting type of death and then watched it occur first hand, I identify with the grief, the way it brings other peoples including our own selves into sharper focus that’s not always flattering, and worst. The waiting. Very few people live that prognosis. They die before they’re dead.
Wow! That was brilliant! I went through so many different emotions
Would love to know more
How sad and yet oddly inspiring. We can only hope to lead lives that allow us to have such tender moments at the end of it all
If I was to write what my poetry is then 'sad and oddly inspiring' is perfect. Thank you!
Oh boy! G.K., don't ask me. Okay? Must go soak head Must go soak head in public pool. Cheers!
I do not know whether this is a compliment or you just need to swim.
Course it's a compliment. Scary poem. Carry on!
This, is beautiful!
What resonated with you about this poem?
Death waiting patiently.
Great writing
darksoursadhorrific
Holy shit I’m dealing with this today bad dad with dementia and step mom is overwhelmed naturally the responsibility falls on my husband a successful theater artist and teacher for the last 40 years who was told by his father the last time we made the 6 hour drive “when you gonna stop this shit and get a real job” I feel you