HUMAN DRAIN
I am fast becoming a human drain,
Soaking up the kindness of others,
A stopped up rancid human drain,
And if I truly had my druthers,
I’d go elsewhere to ply my sucking trade,
Can someone please tell me,
Are leeches born or are they made?
Alan Harper can manipulate backs,
But all I’m good for is stepping on cracks.
In this household there’s one and a half men,
I have lost one half of who I was,
It’s up and left me just because,
And all the king’s horses and all his men,
Cannot make me whole again.
I am alas a hapless human drain,
With cells dying off in my hapless brain,
The cells that fire the movement sweet,
That fuel the muscles of hands and feet.
And so I’m always spilling drinks,
I stumble a bit too much methinks.
A mishap waiting on the stairs,
That giant sucking sound is me,
Draining coffers unawares.
The health insurance bleeds me dry,
Leaving nothing left to spare,
I drown in the bills for a myriad of ills,
While I sit and wait for Medicare.
I make too much for Medicaid,
It’s the same old tantrum and tirade.
I know Merle Haggard said it best,
And now the phrase sounds borrowed and trite,
But if I can make it ‘til December,
Everything will be all right.
And now I’m stealing from ‘ole Merle,
It’s a mixed up crazy misshaped world.
If he wants to sue, he’ll have to get in line,
I haven’t the pith or the patience for original rhymes.
I am, after all, a human drain, working overtime.
I used to make a decent living,
Though I’ve never been a rich man,
But I’ve never been such a pauper
In such a patchwork land.
Where paying one’s own way
Involves a cunning sleight of hand.
I am a human drain,
Made of detritus and quicksand.
I am alas a human drain,
Art won’t pay the bills,
And poetry alas is dead,
There is no gold in them thar hills.
I just have one question,
Then I’m off to ply my sucking trade,
Can someone kindly tell me,
Are leeches born or are they made?
-Bruce Potts
Copyright 2012
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Ah, Bruce, I wish I could be there and reassure you that your presence in this world matters; your suffering purifies your soul, and those who are helping you are gaining tremendously from it - spiritually, if not materially. I have learned so much from Michael; I am richer for it.
ReplyDeleteI've said it before, I wish I could whisk you up here to our system where you would not be under such financial duress. The unfairness of it angers me.
Oh, and your poetry continues to move me. Don't stop, please.
Thank you, Claire. This one was meant to elicit a laugh, with the Alan Harper line and the Merle Haggard line. My brother and Kyle are both great at helping me, so I only feel like a human drain in some weird existential sense. Be careful what you ask for! I will continue to write and next week's poem "Marquee" which was written over a month ago addresses the existential loneliness I find in blogging! But really I feel blessed to have this forum just to get things off my chest and having loyal readers like you (and you may be the only one, lol, as you are the only one to leave comments anymore) is just the icing on the proverbial cake. I am learning the importance of doing this for me and whatever else happens happens! Thank you so much for reading and taking the time to comment!
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