Showing posts with label old age. Show all posts
Showing posts with label old age. Show all posts

Monday, April 10, 2017

The Old Highway in Context

Well, I'll tell you, before the freeway
was there, there was the Old Highway.
Before that the old path was there, when
they used wagons. Before that,

Muhammad received Allah's words
and said, yes he said, and before
that, Adam and Eve were still around,
and before that, an asteroid

with water on it hit the Earth,
and before that the Earth and Moon
were the same ball.  Hell, I must've
drive that Old Highway a million times.


hans ostrom 2017

Monday, September 7, 2015

Old Notes

The old woman looked at the image in the
mirror and thought, "My hair is a corpse."
Lately she's regarded her memories
as notes about a forgotten novel.



hans ostrom 2015



Friday, September 19, 2014

"Mere Dissolution," by Hans Ostrom

Too tired to attend
the Entropy Conference in Antwerp,
Professor A.P. Ledlox stayed home.

He sipped cryptic broth
and fell apart emotionally.

He stared out the window
at an alleged landscape
(smears of gray and brown).

Oh, for a whiff of
a young woman's neck, oh
for a swim in an alpine lake, oh
for chrissakes shut up, he
told himself: It's

dissolution, mine. Yearning
will not halt or decorate it.


hans ostro 2014

Monday, December 3, 2012

Lapses in Memory

So, I have this friend, he's 62, and his mother
is 90.  He takes her to her regular medical check-ups.
And so forth. At the last check-up, the nurse who
works for the doctor had the mother, 90, fill out
a form, answer questions.  One of the questions
was, "Have you experienced  lapses in memory lately?"

The mother read the question and turned to her son,
my friend, who is 62, and asked, "How would I know?"


Copyright 2012 Hans Ostrom

Wednesday, November 28, 2012

Getting Old: An Introduction

You'll admit you always had the illusion
you were almost hip, sort of with-it, and
you'll admit that you never were and that
you're now completely out of step. Bones

and muscles will ache as easily as they used
not to. To the extent you had personal enemies,
they'll either be dead now or seem
ludicrous--like you.  Hair

will have grown in places you hadn't
imagined hair could grow, as in  for example
the inside of your ears. By turns, you'll want
to cry out "Leave me alone!" and "Please

notice me!" If the young notice you,
they'll look through you. Lust won't leave
you. It will just badger you and make
you seem creepy. In fact, this is a country

for old men and women.  The problem
is simply that age doesn't earn you anything
special, and pneumonia's always
out there, waiting like a burglar,

and nobody cares what you know.


Copyright 2012 Hans Ostrom