Parousia
This second life was ordained
by a drawn-out judgement –
an almost-expected epithet
for the quickened reductions
under my ever-thickening skin –
on dragged heels and hands –
Add Old Age’s uneven stockpile
of his enfeebling irritations
and so my time was reset –
And in this slowing restate
I cannot make any mistakes –
I cannot afford to fall heavily –
do not expect me to pick myself up
as quickly as the still-blessed do –
as I did before this epiphaneia