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R Mar 2018
“It’s just a disease”
They tell me.
But really, it is more than that.
Taking, taking, it just takes what you love
And leaves a big
E M P T Y
Hole.

“It’s just one person”
They tell me
But really, it is more than that.
Taking, taking, it just takes who you love
And leaves a big
E M P T Y
Hole.

“We can still remember him”
They tell me.
But really, how can you?
When he didn’t remember you?

It’s not just a disease.
It’s not just one person.
You may not ever remember him,
How he was
Before.

Before,
He offered us popsicles,
And told us stories
Like the one with the toll bridge.

Before,
He knew my dad
And not just as a “Gastonia boy”.

Before,
He gave us hugs
And you can’t hug someone
You don’t recognize.
You can’t love someone
You don’t recognize.

And yet he does.
Tribute to my great-grandfather. He died of Alzheimer's when I was in the fourth grade. I still think about him a lot.
Deeded Mine Singular Default Mode To...

Communicate (temporarily,
     strictly and hypothetically)
     merely allowing me to burble
essentially rendering, limiting,
     and fixing me tubby nonverbal,

where frustration ensued -
     inducing passivity, asper myself
     shrugging shoulders in resignation
     **** sitter ring thy fate
     nsync with that of a gerbil?

Thus codifying, con
     fining, and consigning
     stricture to a sorry lot
perhaps finding me
     envying fun
     Gus of ergot,

which organism at least participates
     in a pro active life cycle,
     though one may say,
     said organism doth rot.

Now...all Joe King aside,
an attempt will be made tried
though daunted to cogitate beside
Ritch ching deep inside
     and remain on - ride
ding the straight and true
     so please dont chide
restricting me to bide

with guise of seriousness,
     when aye decide
did to complete on
     par tragedy thalidomide

wrought, yet this poem, though belied
and bedeviled pondering
     how Yukon not induce tongue re:
     totally tubularly restrained,
     sans tubby unable to talk
     plus afflicted with autism,
     hence guide
did through extreme effort

     pretending, thus
     to feign being denied
critical skill to chat
     with a snap allied
(NOT with van knit tee),
     but dead seriousness try
ying with futility hypothetically
     impossible to imagine tubby

     accursed without means to speak
     compounded by autism,
     an immeasurable frustration
     must mount inside,
viz unfortunate behavioral demeanor,
     nonetheless I cried
inside when the limp deceased body of
     six year old

     Maddox Ritch – already died,
drowned mainly supposedly,
     when dashing ahead,
     he didst play hide
with his father (Ian Ritch),

     while the special needs child
     (unknowingly) both spent
     final hours together
     bonding at Rankin
     Lake Park in Gastonia
     within North Carolina.

— The End —