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Reduced Acuity

by Channie Greenberg

I brushed teeth twice,
Daily, before my wife
Died. Leaving three budgies
Plus an angry adolescent.

Sweet atrophy of mind or
Decreased function almost
Never gift me any more
With five minutes of dysfunctional solace.

Depression, too,
Skips my address.
Cancer or car accidents
Offer better venues.

So, my “troubles” stay unpackaged
By glitzy news, by tidy breveries.
Such inner neap waves, roll, maybe
Ebb, without collected commotion.

Thereafter, no solecism, its sister
Faux pas, or other of the community’s tarts
Compensate my empty spaces. Just
Rough-hewn dissonance follows.

Copyright © 2010 by Channie Greenberg

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