Brain Rot(Alzheimer's)

                                               

She sits alone in her wheelchair
staring out the window
in her lonely conclave;
her dysfunction concealed beneath
a dispiriting impenetrable trance,
as she shares this small denizen
with her imaginary friends of endless prattle,
her rambling brays and dissociative fugue
amuse the scattering ghosts;
for her once calculative mind
could compute in an instant what now
is a tottering chore,
her encomium of memories float
upon a fogged pane of glass,
forever wiped from her conscience, now
she calls me Frank each visit that's 
not even close to my baptismal name, but we
laugh together like it's an inside joke shared between
two old friends, and as I depart from this psych ward each day
I leave her to extricate her private soliloquies. 
- John Hardesty