Alzheimer's Elegy

I. Bits and Pieces

Where was I...?
Can't remember, but I try.
Relatives making such a hew and cry,
I feel like I'm the sane one amidst neurotic plagues.

No, I shouldn't be fazed,
And that's not how the thing's phrased:
It's neuritic plaques that have left me dazed,
These brain-addling indicators of Alzheimer's disease.

II. Land of the Lost

I think Albert has fleas,
Old foe who won't give me peace.
"Albert! Lunkhead! I see you in the trees!"
Died in 1957, come back for another wrangle?

No...that's not his angle,
I shouldn't let that lie dangle.
You've caught me in a neuro-fibbing tangle,
Or I'm caught up by something more...um...scientific.

III. Fire Sermon

Neurofibrillary tangles, to be specific,
Twisted protein fibers in nerve cells horrific.
Happens with Alzheimer's, so memory's not terrific.
But the tangles, unlike plaques, happen in other diseases, too.

Won't know it's A.D. until life's through,
And they check my brain for signs of defective goo,
With the Bishop of East Ganglia heading the surgical crew.
Until then, memories slowly burn and I feel increasingly alone.

IV. What the Thunder Did

"Confusion is frightening," I groan.
Basic facts, more and more, are wholly unknown:
I'm convinced this piece of paper is made out of bone.
The idea's so absurd but seems so real just now, it's uncanny.

I call out like I'm five: "Nanny! Nanny! Nanny!"

(Like our old cat Oscar, I've blundered
The one who ran outside when it thundered.
Or I may be a possum in headlights, running in circles...)

With apologies to T.S. Eliot: modernist and conservative, fragmenter and recollecter. If you've had enough poetry, see what science has to say about Alzheimer's, in ACSH's report.