Down to the bone this Thursday at the end of 2016. Whatever critique you've got left in you at the end of the year, I'll take it. Thanks and Happy New Year!
Osteoporosis
It is three in the morning.
I pour myself a glass of milk
and drink it slowly.
At the bottom of the glass,
white bubbles—
like honeycomb, a multitude of o’s,
an x-ray of osteoporosis.
Two days ago
I took a bone density test.
For the first time ever,
I looked upon the insides of
hip bones and spine.
What I saw was divine.
Man could not make what I saw.
At this moment,
I want to stand up straight
in the heart of my kitchen,
lift my glass high
like the Statue of Liberty
holds her torch,
toasting a big God
and those wonderful old cronies
in this world who still frolic
or limp along
inside their bones,
fragile or not.
Osteoporosis
It is three in the morning.
I pour myself a glass of milk
and drink it slowly.
At the bottom of the glass,
white bubbles—
like honeycomb, a multitude of o’s,
an x-ray of osteoporosis.
Two days ago
I took a bone density test.
For the first time ever,
I looked upon the insides of
hip bones and spine.
What I saw was divine.
Man could not make what I saw.
At this moment,
I want to stand up straight
in the heart of my kitchen,
lift my glass high
like the Statue of Liberty
holds her torch,
toasting a big God
and those wonderful old cronies
in this world who still frolic
or limp along
inside their bones,
fragile or not.