Author's Note:  "This poem is based on the fact that Thomas Jefferson, 
smith of the Constitution, was allowed to starve to death in his old age.  
The other aspect is that my Grandmother died of Alzheimer's (they said 
at the time it was hardening of the arteries) and I fear that kind of helplessness 
more than any other kind of injury."


He was in the dining room
Huddled in the corner
I knocked a bit of paper from the table
     crossing to him
Picking it up
I found a list of the things
     his things
Scrawled in his illegible script
Things he wanted to give me
Everything . . .
He wanted me to have everything
I lifted my eyes
And he was trying
     not crying


Hey Pap
What's this?


I want you to have it
I want you to have it all


Pap I don't want your stuff . . .


You don't need me
     you know
Haven't for the longest time
And I'm afraid
     so afraid
I'm scared you'll forget to feed me
Scared I'll wander off
     and get lost