I revel in the skin that I’m in
Define myself by what I am and not
What I am not
This sagging bag of water that I call a body
Is my means to go where I can
Like the bar of soap sitting in the dish
It no longer is large and solid, but
Small and soft
Still, it is the essence that once made it desirable
It still cleans and offers that past whiff of what it was
I’ve been listening to Sir Paul
And I do need more silly love songs
As I sing with all of this craggy voice
And the notes that I can no longer hit, I just sing the louder
Even though I’ve become more like Statler and Waldorf
They are happy and satisfied being coggy old grumps
Sitting in their balcony on the side
Commenting on the absurdity of the players
I sing in my cogginess, I am a happy grump
I will watch the blue sky and not look for clouds
And the rain that puddles behind the wall should amuse me
Laughter dances easily on my lips
And I pass it along to you
I don’t feel like a poor excuse for anything
And this large glass of vodka helps
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3 comments:
Harry, you amaze me. If the Vodka helps have one for me but you don't need it to be a fine example of a human being!
Wow, Harry... screw it, I'm heading to see if we have any orange juice-- I want to feel as good as you write.
Pass the bottle! I want to revel, too! JO
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