You'll admit you always had the illusion
you were almost hip, sort of with-it, and
you'll admit that you never were and that
you're now completely out of step. Bones
and muscles will ache as easily as they used
not to. To the extent you had personal enemies,
they'll either be dead now or seem
ludicrous--like you. Hair
will have grown in places you hadn't
imagined hair could grow, as in for example
the inside of your ears. By turns, you'll want
to cry out "Leave me alone!" and "Please
notice me!" If the young notice you,
they'll look through you. Lust won't leave
you. It will just badger you and make
you seem creepy. In fact, this is a country
for old men and women. The problem
is simply that age doesn't earn you anything
special, and pneumonia's always
out there, waiting like a burglar,
and nobody cares what you know.
Copyright 2012 Hans Ostrom
