by Kirby Wright
With modern medicine, isn't all life artificial?
Wonder drugs make us artifacts, might someday
Preserve us longer than Methuselah, the antediluvian.
Walt Disney's still alive in a cryogenic sense,
His skin as blue as Matterhorn snow. It's a wonder
I survived babyhood after three convulsions,
Thank god Mrs.Tamura held down my tongue with a
Spoon. Lives keep extending, making postwar babies
The envy of their prewar parents. What about pets?
That cat down the street isn't breathing the way he did
Last week. Must be his diet. Some owners give their
Dogs and cats Life Extension, either in powder or tablets.
After powder, Grandma's Chihuahua wants to be bounced on
My knee like a baby. My vet says animal longevity can't be
Predicted. He's right, especially when you consider the
Omnipresent threat of traffic. In the human world,
Orchestra conductors live the longest—something about
Commanding with hands, making faces, waving a wand
In front of trained musicians. I doubt train conductors live
As long, although their approach whistle might resemble
A note blown from an archangel's trumpet. My uncle wanted
Taps played over his grave. Will I be buried with
Cuff links polished? Gold watch strapped to my wrist?
Saint Michael on a swimmer's chain around my neck?
A classmate I once loved keeps getting posthumous
Awards in my quarterly bulletin, this one for
Lifetime Achievement. It's as if she never really left.
Our lives keep overlapping in Alumni Notes, even though
In high school we hardly touched. Sometimes I break out
The tarot deck, work it like a Geiger counter—
Detecting spiritual fallout, measuring ethereal
Particles, interpreting her half-life, trying to kiss a ghost.
Last updated September 08, 2011