The House in Which I Dwell is Old
The house in which I dwell is old.
It's settling below.
Its upper joints have bent from cold,
Hoarfrosty shocks and blows.
From age its rooftop now has bleach'd.
Its windows grimed — most dark.
Its dumbwaiter's stuck down from rust.
Its cellar's wholly stark.
The Keeper does not light Her Lamp
As She did formerly —
That soul —
Housemate —
That silent Vamp —
Ahoused eternity.
© Wilson Varga 2018
Because I Ran Around When Young
Because I ran around when young
Old knees have failed old me.
The pain to stand is great; I cry
And tear to flex each knee.
A torn meniscus each now has.
A mis-stepp'd twist does wrench
Menisci out of joints. Ow-ouch!
Stopped cold. Confined to bench.
The docs do push their surgery.
Replacement joints have they.
"Recovering will painful be;
No stairs you'll climb," they say.
Alone in townhouse do I dwell,
Four flights from top to base.
Not senior-ready is my house.
Four flights! Can't heal in place.
"Lose weight," docs say. "Fat chance," says I;
"It hurts like hell to move."
"Move out," friends say. "Slim chance," says I;
"There's tons to pack or lose."
Like Lucifer I'm pained in hell
Below bilat'rally.
Old knees I salve as I may well:
Capzasin™ lib'rally.
You youngsters, spare your joints some wear.
Do learn from me. Stay strong,
And treat your knees with gentle care.
You'll miss them when they're gone.1
1 Mary Schmich, "Advice, like youth, probably just wasted on the young," June 1, 1997, Chicago Tribune. (Popularly known as "Wear Sunscreen.")
Chicago Tribune via the Internet Archive's Wayback Machine:
https://web.archive.org/web/20260207201053/https://www.chicagotribune.com/1997/06/01/advice-like-youth-probably-just-wasted-on-the-young-2/
Wikipedia article:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wear_Sunscreen
