Suppose
I could say it was the train that
missed
me by inches at the crossing which
got
me here.
Likely
it was the plane which crashed over
Lake
Superior I didn’t take.
I
could say it was the 711 that I didn’t enter
the
night of the robbery and murder which
brought
me to this place in time.
Though
it may have been the health food
kick
I went on for a week last year,
or
quitting booze and smokes for two years
in
a row back in 1993 which got me here.
I
know it seems implausible, but brushing
my
teeth and saying my prayers before
bedtime
may have bought me this extension
on
my life.
Who
knows, who can rightly say which
precautions
or directions taken were key
to
my survivabilty?
I
shied away from excessive speed, backed
away
from high places, never played with
firearms
or explosive charges.
Plumb
lucked out, I suppose, when I took
some
pretty foolish chances.
A
doctor once told me, I’m not in too bad
a
shape for the shape I’m in. (Never did follow
the
diet and exercise plan prescribed by him.)
Somehow
I managed to make it baring injury,
bad
fortune, disease and fatality to age 73.
How
I did eventually come this far in life beats
the
living shit out of me…
Wait,
that’s it, could have had something to do
with
prune juice and daily bowel movement
regularity.
-30-
Chris
Hanch 6-7-2020
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