Sputterpub's Blog

A doctor once advised me not to poke
an item less than elbow-size in ears.
Detecting solid wisdom in his joke,

I took his point to heart. That was 10 years
ago at least, while he removed the wax
I’d grown (that syringe brought wince and even tears).

Benign neglect since then has been too lax,
for seven days ago my hearing paled.
I thought it bathing water, but the cracks

and pops persisted till I almost failed
to hear the toilet flush, or tones around
the neighborhood where traffic noise prevailed.

I tried a recommended kit, but found
inadequate relief the first three days.
Resorting to a nurse’s care, some sound

returned but all that wax went in a ways.
She said “continue drops, next week come back,
and we’ll lavage again.” But liquid stays

inside my ears whenever I attack
with dropper or with syringe. I seldom spoke
alone, but now I’m sensing aural lack.

Intending to reduce my speed in most
endeavors, I assume that age will serve
to aid me toward that goal. I used to boast
(at least within) at work and walk, aswerve
and weaving through obstructions, like a host
of foes would block me but I plied my nerve
and bested. I’m at peace now with a pace
to benefit my limbs,
my brain,
my face.

Immersing in my bath last week, a weird
sensation was occasioned for my head.
It felt like water in my ear, appeared
to be a drainage failure, but instead
of dripping out, no posture I tried cleared
the painless situation. When I read
and someone peered, I learned of time’s attacks –
I’m working to now to flush an age of wax.