Sunday, July 16, 2017

Poetry Sunday


This diagnosis applies to me, too ... although some days it's harder to live with than others.

Diagnosis 
by Sharon Olds 

By the time I was six months old, she knew something
was wrong with me. I got looks on my face
she had not seen on any child
in the family, or the extended family,
or the neighborhood. My mother took me in
to the pediatrician with the kind hands,
a doctor with a name like a suit size for a wheel:
Hub Long. My mom did not tell him
what she thought in truth, that I was Possessed.
It was just these strange looks on my face—
he held me, and conversed with me
chatting as one does with a baby, and my mother
said, She’s doing it now! Look!
She’s doing it now! and the doctor said,
What your daughter has
is called a sense
of humor. Ohhh, she said, and took me
back to the house where that sense would be tested
and found to be incurable.

Have a good day, and try to laugh at something besides the government.

More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo

3 comments:

eViL pOp TaRt said...

I'm sorry to say that senses of humor are sometimes not appreciated.

Mike said...

Laugh and the world laughs with you. Laugh at the world and make sure you have an escape route.

allenwoodhaven said...

very nice!