Tag Archives: getting older

Reign XI

Every night spent beating back entropy
Was a night we spent in glorious vain,
Conducting our bodies passionately,
Musica humanis, rhythm, refrain.
We movers got older, became less prime,
But the movements became more glorious,
Layered and nuanced, polished, refined with time
(We trained like artists, drilled like warriors)
(Film finds the best way to do a thing once;
Theater strives for perfection each night,
And so did we, animals on the hunt,
Tongues tasting the air, ready for a fight.
Night became day and time kept advancing
(The world was ending, but we were dancing)


gr owing old

At 11:29 she’s telling me
(Oh, I don’t feel
old (even though I’m almost XX))

By 12:15 her constitution’s
been amended by alcohol

[1 whole drink!]

and she wants to go home
as badly as she wants to
go to the next bar

At 12:THIRTY-FOUR
(Oh, there’s a tequila bar behind us!
They’ve got over SIXTY
different kinds!)
(Well, then let’s go)
(No, we shouldn’t,
I’m just saying)

And so 8 minutes later
We’re in the car passing
A restaurant
(That’s where all the kids went)

[The kids, those 20-somethings!]

(Do you want to go?)
(It’s too late, I’ve made up my mind)
(But do you want to?)
(I’ve made up my mind, it’s too late)
(Well, what a shame
You aren’t the 1 driving)

At 12:FORTY-TWO
I jerk the wheel hard and we slide across
3 lanes of traffic and she is screaming
and laughing like she is 17
and we are there until they close at
1:55 like we are SEVENTEEN

(I thought you wanted to go home)
(Yes, but I’m glad I didn’t)
(I thought you didn’t feel old)
(Well, I am old, but I choose not to feel
it)
(Uh huh, sure)
(What about you?)
(Oh, I’m not old)
[I say, running my hand through my hair,
bald spot fragile as a fontanelle]


Sea Shanty

My body drifts

Across silent oceans of sleep,

Carried by strange winds

To a happy feral place

 

Where I’ll meet a you

That doesn’t exist,

All pearlescent hair and

Iridescent skin,

 

And I don’t know when

I became an old man, but

I’m young enough yet

To throw another bottle overboard,

 

Thinking of

All the things I want

And how I’m going

To get them


California, We Need to Talk

Everything’s changed

Everything changes

Everything gets old

Everything gets grown

But us

 

Ten years and we’re no bigger

Ten years and we’re not better

Ten years and I’m still bitter

Ten years and you’re no wetter

 

That rich boy’s got his hand on your ass

And that should be me

Should have been me

Should still be me

But I’m as broke

As your curves are brown

 

You’re not an island

You never were

That shit’s done

It’s dumb, it’s plain as the sun

Shining on coasts

Shining on cities

Do you miss me?

I miss you

 

Or maybe I miss a memory

I miss a fantasy

A you that never existed

Or a you that died a long time ago

I miss golden rivers and golden bears

Miss golden roads and growing old together

But I don’t even know you now

All plastic and silicon

When I’m all calluses and bones

 

And you’re just not as wet as you used to be


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