Carl Wade Thompson

Each day he awakens,
a little less than he was.
Routine, routine,
each day the same,
In here, rest home,
patterns are everything.
Keep on track,
nurse come,
put on clothes, comb hair,
brush those teeth.
Each action forgotten,
the moment it’s done.
Most important meal.
Dribbles oatmeal, toast,
forget to chew, swallow,
so many things—Remember,
to walk, bathe, piss.
Can’t keep track of it all.
The memories fade fast,
sand grains through a sieve.
Days no longer counted,
it Christmas? No, June.
Just move on, move on—
His mind rubbed out,
gutted like an old house,
until all that’s left—


Carl Wade ThompsonCarl Wade Thompson is a poet and the graduate writing tutor at Texas Wesleyan University. His work has appeared in The Mayo Review, The Concho River Review, The Red River Review, Sheepshead Review, The Eunoia Review, The Galway Review, The Blue Collar Review, Cenizo, Enigmatist, Crosstimbers, Work Literary Magazine, Piker Press, Anak Sastra, Blue Minaret, Doll Hospital Literary Journal, One in Four, and Labor: Studies in Working-Class History of the Americas.