It’s
bound to happen, you know,
I
tell myself. Day after day, I sit
around
waiting for things to break.
The
other day there was the drip,
drip
of the plumbing, then the
torrential
flow of a ruptured water
pipe
in the crawl space below. A
hell
of a mess made at 10 PM on
a
Sunday with no maintenance to
be
found. I consider the coffee
maker
more than 10-years old
gurgling
away in the kitchen.
How
many more cups will it
yield
before it gives way and
surrenders
to the strain? In my
chest,
I feel the heartbeat and
know
each pump is one fewer, one
closer
to the end of days. Time, my
friends,
is not on our side. Granite
mountains
crumble stone by stone
under
the stress of their own weight.
The
best movies, the grandest of
symphonies
must arrive inevitably
at
an end. The replay button can be
applied
only so many times before
even
the best of times grow old. I see
the
batteries I’ve recently replaced
in
my remote are guaranteed for ten
years.
In my seventies now, and given
that
I’ve not taken the best care of
myself,
I figure those Duracell's will
certainly
outlast me. Cripes’ sake, man,
I’m
expendable, not that money-making
drum-beating,
Energizer Bunny advertised
on
TV.
Chris
Hanch 6-21-18
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