Age of Incurable Disease

Jeffrey L. Taylor

May 7, 2023

At three score and twelve
my osteoarthritis pain
can be treated. I can slow
its progress. There is no cure.
Same for sleep apnea.
My CPAP machine is palliative care,
not cure. Not all my knee pain
is arthritis. The worn out joint
can be replaced by shiny new,
which lasts half as long.
There are others coming,
over the horizon,
not yet visible. I know
neither their names, nor
their treatment. I feel
their heavy tread. When
the wind is right, I catch a whiff
I don’t recognize. In time,
I will.

Jeffrey L. Taylor's first submitted poems won 1st place and runner-up in Riff Magazine's 1994 Jazz and Blues Poetry Contest.  Encouraged, he continues to write and has been published in di-vêrsé-city, The Perch, Gathering Storm Magazine, Red River Review, Illya's Honey, Enchantment of the Ordinary anthology, Texas Poetry Calendar, and The Langdon Review.  Serving as sensei (instructor) to small children and professor to graduate students has taught him humility.