Slow Leak

 

Another semi-sarcastic ramble…(aka, a poem)…written at some point to poke fun at the ego and aging.

 

Slow Leak

 

Three quarters through

the first day of being 60.

On entering a decade of sixes,

not much has changed.

 

I had imagined some commencement,

an inauguration was going to happen.

A retrospective of my genius

would pop-up like a pop-up store.

 

Nothing less or nothing more,

this day rolls towards nightfall.

I am falling towards the

reality of some unknown end.

 

Visions of grandeur linger

in my now shrinking head,

now shrinking body,

loss of muscle mass.

 

But I’m a feisty one,

as all newly 60’d say.

I will change the game,

slow the leak.

 

Oh such nerve, what gumption.

I write an epitaph

of my glorious assumption,

one pompous word at rhyme.

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