With profound apologies to those who are more than metaphorically legless

My future
Like a phantom limb
though lopped off
Continues to trouble me,
Throbs, itches, burns,
Does everything it can
To remind me
How it has been betrayed,
Traded away
In favor of my solid present self,
Exactly the way
A mangled leg
Is offered up
To keep its mate
And the patient’s head,
Torso, arms
And such
Intact and going.
Of course
The trash-bound leg
Will not let
The Judas
That’s sold it out
Forget what has happened.
A man ought to stand by
What he stands on,
Not just weigh it
On a scale
To see what it will bring
In the awful currency
Of the present tense.
He ought to go down with his ship,
As it were,
With the shod and gloved
And trousered parts
Of which he consists.
All for one
And one for all,
No extremity
Shopped or cashiered
For a wee little more
Of the here and now.
Serves me right
That my severed future
Works the places
It thought itself firmly attached,
Making me wince
At dinner,
In sight of a friend,
Who must accept the lame excuse,
Gas. Sorry.

Published in: on June 3, 2010 at 8:08 pm  Comments (1)  

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One CommentLeave a comment

  1. Amen!to your thoughts on “everything happens for a reason”. My 24 year old daughter, rendered by cancer,a one legged,half pelvised,paraplegic and I are not as eloquent. When people attempt to comfort us with the inane phrase, we just give each other the LOOK that says, what a load of crap!
    Thank you for your insights.

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