(for Satendra)

What happened to me

What did I do to deserve that?

I don’t want to be old person.

I’m buggered now, poor fulla me, done, old, like dust.

I should go to doctor, and ask him a question.

He said, ‘Only thing worse than getting old, is not.’
Wise man, Doctor. He’s like light. His eyes know. They see into me. They see that what I
don’t, that I can’t see.

My hands, all busted now. Used, poor fullas, done a good job, soon they’ll be dust.

My head ... He’s cold now. Not much hair, cold gets in from the top. Can’t make it stop.
Hair, all dust now.

And my eyes, water, turnin’ blue ... No turnin’ back.

Soon. Soon. Soon,

all dust.

Paul Collis