Physique
I think it’s fair for me to say
‘That time is meant to run away.
That time never really attaches,
it just slaps you as it passes.’
No cultural lasting impressions,
only the saggings and retentions:
those ravaging hits and runs
on your face, chest, legs, and buns.
The lack of hair upon your head.
Your belly could double as a bed.
The slightest movement makes you tired.
Everything else raises your ire.
All this is natural for sure,
as we near the end of life’s tour,
when each of us should check our egos
and burn those toupees and spangled Speedos.
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