I am slow
Not slow like a boat to china, lazy river, blue lagoon and waterfall pool, cerulean skies, azure paradise, holiday of a lifetime, all time slow time
No
Mine is a treacle wading, soul degrading, stiff and rigid, twitch and fidget, daily battle, iron shackles, aching shoulders, living with it, cramp and pain, then do it again every day in a row slow
Not slow like Richard T from class 3c, test flunking, desk thumping, teachers threaten extra lessons, never heard of special needs not in the 1970's, that boy was slow slow
But I am slow now though
I’m slow to remember, decide and recall, slow to process any idea at all, nobody knows but it comes and it goes and it usually doesn’t show slow
Not slow like Sunday afternoon, home alone in the gloom, hunched like a turtle, too bored to Wordle, tedium overload, antiques roadshow slow
I’m really slow
My bowels are becalmed, my bladder undependable, I’m slow to get up, and I’m slow to sit down, more lethargy than leisurely, life in a slow mo, penile go-slow no-go slow
Not slow like research and fundraising, clinical trials and testing, scientists and ologists, early diagnosis, old meds, new tech, one day some day, everyone with Parkinson’s is dreaming of a cure.
I’m not that **** slow
Oh, Martin! Your poem is a strong testament to the agony of the stranglehold that is PD...
They tell me time flies by as we get older, this poem certainly makes me question this. if everything
we do takes longer, then slow it down some more, thank you mr Parkinson. it becomes clear, Well it might do I’m still trying to process it. Thank you for this piece Martin
Oh how we know those days, nights and weeks.