Writing the date May 14, ____
which ‘til today has-been routine,
suddenly seems a mystery.
Born just after the war in 1945,
time has apparently caught up
with this mid-septuagenarian.
What the hell does 2-0-1-9 mean?
It feels so very unfamiliar, distant
from roots’ origins – even horrible.
Was that the beginning (or middle)
of my losing touch, becoming daffy
on wheelchair skids to loony bin?
Gerry Sarnat MD’s won Poetry in the Arts First Place/Dorfman Prizes; was nominated for Pushcarts/Best of the Net Awards; authored HOMELESS CHRONICLES (2010), Disputes (2012), 17s (2014), Melting The Ice King (2016); and’s widely published including recently by New Ulster, Gargoyle, University of Chicago, Stanford, Oberlin, Wesleyan, Johns Hopkins, Harvard, Edinburgh, Columbia, Brown, American Journal Of Poetry, Poetry Quarterly, Poetry Circle, Main Street Rag, New Delta Review, Brooklyn Review, Los Angeles Review, San Francisco Magazine, New York Times.