THE POST POLIO THING
I created a poem the other day
Of all the special things I had to say,
My arms were the subject as I recall:
What if I had no bloody arms at all?
It’s getting that way: my arms are weaker
This post polio thing prevents this speaker
From scribbling down the magical verse
That forms my trade; is that being perverse?
My brain is too fast for my wretched hands
Leaving it a mass of confusing strands…
The day will dawn when my brain will explode
Leaving bits of poems all over the road!
| 
