The Joy Of Old Age

I have always been a person

driven mad by female beauty.

Yes, you may say, and it was a short trip.

But no, it wasn’t. It was damned long.

And I thought it would never end. But it did.

And I’m damned glad, let me tell you, glad.

It’s over and I hope it never comes back

to bite me, and I don’t think it will.

Nor do they seem to like me these days.

I fart. I drool. I rarely dance.

I pontificate and moralize. 

In general, it may be said, I act old.

I am old. And it’s my salvation.

Glory to the sanity of Old Age!

Never more foolishness!

Down boy! Down!