I fall gently and surely, like dandelion fluff,
Stuffing my face, lungs, and veins with that junk,
Funky, fat freak, I, want to transform,
Normalcy ***** so I'm packing my trunk.

That shear inevitability though,
Flow of time guarantees multiple falls,
Calls to mind fresh bright blood spilled on snow,
O who would know snow?  I'm up to my *****...!

The joints are beginning to sear and fry
My seasonal torpor is at its peak
Seeking now a warm word, and smiling eyes,
Sigh, for the sun sets, and smothers the meek.