Valetudinarian Blues
My organs are conspiring
to choose my cause of death.
My plumbing and my wiring
are failing, and my breath
is labored from the years
I spent inhaling smoke,
although it now appears
I’ll likely go by stroke.
My heart is prone to flutter,
my liver’s gotten bumpy
from too much beer and butter,
and my bladder’s very grumpy.
My doctor isn’t worried
by the color of my pee.
His last exam was hurried.
Thank God for WebMD.
A Rising Tide
“A rising tide,” they say, “will lift all boats.”
Good news, if you possess something that floats.
What about those sinking in the mud,
or those whose heads are bobbing in the flood,
slapped in the face by the uncaring wake
of every passing yacht? “Let them eat cake.”
Glenn Wright is a retired teacher living in Alaska with his wife, Dorothy, and their dog, Bethany. He likes to brag about his grandchildren, and he writes poems to ponder, to celebrate, and sometimes to keep from driving his fist through the drywall. His work has recently appeared in The Amethyst Review, The Orchards Poetry Journal, Pulsebeat Poetry, Gemini Magazine, and other publications.