Getting Older

Now that I get older
I find that I'm

The type that
Attracts:

Warts and
Moles and
Polyps.

So I'll probably
End up with cancer

Unless I end up
Some other way.

Nothing

What's wrong?
Nothing.
A nothing dragged
From decades ago
Screaming into the present
Colliding
Into a mangled
Train wreck
Car smash
Plane crash;
Nothing,
Of this
Instant.

I could:
Choose to believe
that nothing,
just like I believe
With incredible good-luck
I've won the
Jackpot
Grand-prize
Of
Nothing.

 

Shot down

 

 Bomber jackets
With Top Gun re-runs
Air War stories
And red-hot flak guns

Dark pilot shades
Turned to the sun
Bandits on high
Make bombing runs

Icarus and
Hell's Fallen Angels;
Cool as all hell
Wings locked in battles

Flights of fancy
And fleeting day dreams
Shot down as one,
All motes in sunbeams.

Poets

 

Po-faced poets,
Pen,
Pious poems,
Ponderously,
Period.