Searching for the early Parkinson’s twitch
Or the Alzheimer’s gap, I gently trudge past
The eponyms that could define me
When my knee makes creaky noises a habit
And my knuckles crunch as I type the keyboard
Of an old typewriter
And perhaps if I was lucky enough
I would have a disease named after me
Gunawardana, a lengthy name for perhaps
An extra dose of constipation that killed
A man who got stuck in a rut
– of slow and muscled solids
And wouldn’t that be a sweet death
When that last meal you had – Spaghetti with meatballs
At that plush pasta joint in Colombo
Gets stuck inside the most pathetic of places
And I guess no one told me that meal
Of an extra dose of flour stuffed with animal protein
Could give me an actual heart attack
From the wrong end
And as I lie at the pearly gates, about to enter heaven
I would be like that Goldfish in a fish bowl
A little extra spaghetti poop still stuck in my behind
Telling a bewildered God.
Shit Happens…….
