Poetry

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Gasping behind the veneer of indulgent youth
Dignified gulps of oxygen do little to conceal the Methuselah in Speedo's

Militant lines and caducity march with determined resolve to dismantle the elasticity of juvenescence like locust on a tender shoot

Gravity pulls with savage innocence like playful cubs clawing their way up Grandma's brand new curtains

The maniacal pursuit for DeLeon's Fountain, breeds a plethora of verbose canards with bathtub elixirs, that charm the sagging aged like rats chasing the Pied Piper

We pull, We tuck, We bake, We suck, We rub, We shuck, We inject, We cut.

We lament and wail, walking backwards to the grave
Aching for the brief lie of youth perpetrated on us by soulless cloud merchants who worship at the altars of avarice.

And we miss the exultation of life dancing around us,
like a child

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