We should all look forward
to dementia,
there’s nowt else certain,
that’s for sure:
Once embraced,
by this progressive disease,
it’s a drawn-out death,
of old memories.
History, recent years,
clean erased,
our marriage would be
disengaged:
So with presence of mind,
here, my living will,
at that point please,
fine wine, and the pills.
50.97272730.0985946
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Published by Mike Bell Poetry
Mike Bell's expanding collection of poems is his ongoing response to actual moments – conjured memories – and a fearful future.
His ambition is to publish 10,000 poems, and then take a nap.
His writing continues to be reproduced in various formats and journals – he also throws himself out there in occasional readings – open mics and poetry sessions – when his body is willing.
Mike Bell is found working for money as a freelance set designer.
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