Link to click to read death poems which are part of the literary writings in the book called THIS IS A PICTURE OF YOUR GOD: A HUGH COOK READER

PROGERIA


We count our blessings.
Progeria
Is old age come in adolescence,
A twist on death
Cruel beyond shocking.
But not, my love, our problem.
Other people's disasters
Have a use.
Our "we not so" is a payoff
For which we no longer remember the lottery ticket.
But we did luck out.
Not, as I say, my love,
Our problem.

The kid next door is autistic,
Cries for hours
From a trap which has no opening.
In Japanese, jiheisho.
Sho, a syndrome, a medical condition.
Hei, closed.
Ji, the self.
The self closed against the world,
Strident with cataclysm,
A million optimisms
Deleted from the equation.
Our problem, my love,
Is not progeria,
Autism,
The Down's syndrome you were reading about
Just before the birth ...
Our problem,
Or, more exactly, mine,
Is managing disdrama,
Not dying but undying,
At least for the moment.
The duty
To persist in a mode of competence
And endure.