The Count

As a boy

I counted years

And soon

Dreamed of

How many novels

I would write


I remember

the braided rug

reading comics

grandma read obits

I wondered why


Then truck driver father

counts dollars

kids grow up,

who is left?


Left to count?


empty bedrooms

ever smaller number

of family, of friends




they soon

are all dead

no novels, little money,

children gone,



and then

I am gone


About anthonyuplandpoetwatkins born in Jackson, The United States August 04, 1959 gender male website genre Poetry, Historical Fiction influences James M. Lancaster, Brenda Black White, Gertrude Stein, William Carlos Williams, and Al Filreis member since March 2011 About this author edit data As one of the most public lives ever lived by a private citizen, there is little about me that isn't already available at Facebook or Shelfari and countless other places. Poet, writer, construction worker, salesman, truck driver, climber into the attics of total strangers, father and husband, and all around one of the luckiest men on the planet. My luck continued with a win in the June Goodreads Newsletter Contest! What an honor! http://anthonyuplandpoetwatkins.wordp... Additional Influences: Bob Dylan, William Faulkner, Barbara Kingsolver, Gloria Naylor, Eudora Welty
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3 Responses to The Count

  1. Mark says:

    Do cheer up old chap! We still love you!

    • Thanks. It isnt that I’m not happy, only that there is an underlying sadness at the ongoing and increasing loss that is the later half of life, or especially these last 20-25 years of my life.

      • Mark says:

        Heck, Tony, I’m 64 now and can hardly get out of bed without help…my joints all creak and everything is getting stiff except what I might want to get stiff! But I’m not dead yet! I took up music two years ago, and am putting the finishing touches to ‘Imperial Air’ I’m already thinking about another book, set in Greece. Have you read The Magus? Anyway, I mean to say, don’t be despondent! You have your son to look after. Mine is 20 and already left home. Our daughter is still with us, and a big handful! A bit of stress keeps one lively!

        All the best, Mark K-H

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