My brain slows to a crawl by noon most days
so I rise early to cram in any hard thinking
required by my calling. After that
I slide downward toward manual effort and
eventually end up in something like catatonia
because I cannot find my words
for how this sudden downfall takes me
from laughing bright and sharp to mourning for
the fading light behind my eyes. Once upon a time
I had it going on at least from dawn to dusk
and often well past midnight. Now I’m a mess
by the time lunch rolls around from recalling
how all I had going for me from day one
was my intellect and now that is going away
like a protective glove being pulled off my hand
by the gears of a terrible machine that will chew up
my weakening arm and swallow me entirely one day.