Tithonus | CE Chaffin

Wherever I volunteer I find myself 
compassionately pushed to the periphery 
like trash on a lake.

I don't blame the young. 
I know how I must look to them 
with my tissue paper skin 
flaking from too many suns 
and the flesh-colored hearing aid 
stuck in my ear like chewing gum, 
the bad shave and cologne 
and dentures that stain 
the angles of my mouth with drool.

Mornings when I shuffle in 
stooped like a question mark, 
my sharp knees poking 
through my slacks like coat hangers, 
I can't help thinking 
they wish I were a ghost 
instead of a prophecy. 

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Contrary ® is a registered trademark of Contrary Magazine
The Figure of Authority | Thomas King
What Mary Did | Sarah Layden
Tithonus | C.E. Chaffin
Homecoming | Patrick Reichard
How You Remember Her | Amy Reed
The Night of the Iguana | Derek Pollard
Generations of Leaves | Taylor Graham
Three Poems | Patrick Loafman

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commentary | poetry | fiction | chicago | summer 2007