You only get one go around.
I’m a few days over 56
and everything
morning, noon n’ night
smells of death.
This ain’t no Oz Dorthy.
And I think of what
I wanted to be …..
to see, to feel, to touch, to do
and there’s just too much to count
or recount.
My $70 bottle of wine is done
and I keep trying to forget
that I’ve already won.
What makes me urge for more?
I’m down to my last $200,000.
Frozen
like a mother forlorned
I wonder why I bother
to make the coffee I make
each morning
as I ache
to where
I don’t know.
I’m 56 and
wear my pants rolled.
I feel old.
As only
one so in love with youth
can do
‘nd I think of Li Po
on the boat
gently rocking
drinking his wine.
I think of Prince.
I’m just a few years behind
‘nd
Amadeus
I got 20 god damn years on him
‘nd
it doesn’t add up
to that which I want to be.
The crickets this night
they chirp.
I’m glad I can hear
instead of see.
This ain’t no Hollywood Clint.
You only get one go around.
No applause.
No retakes.
No credits.
No hims ‘n haws.
Just the silence of
well placed laws
‘nd
then it’s over – my god. Thank god.
