The Joy Of Old Age

I have often 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 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 even like me these days.

I walk slow and rarely dance. I fart a lot. 

I pontificate and moralize, officially

in letters to the newspaper, but also speaking,

when it might benefit others, which is always.

My nose runs at the sight of food.

I'm allergic to morning. Sometimes I drool.

I nap daily and it's a high point. 

Sitting is my favorite activity

once I manage to get out of bed. 

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 again such foolishness.

Down boy! Down!