One Can’t Keep Brooding…

One can’t keep brooding over gravity:
The drooping, dropping mushy *****;* -
Hormone’s programmed mystery
Which summons all and wins.
One’s tired of mirrors,
Made up terrors,
Looking in at thinning skin.
The time spent on the pimpled chin:
Hours that spoil.

Loyal friends disinterested,
Strangers with the least concern;
Who has time to burn
On affectation and facade,
The cavalcade of vanities
That seize the eye?
One can’t protest
What which is useless.

****** is the warmly affectionate  Yiddish  word for ‘***’’ or ‘bottom’
or ‘rear end\’, none which has the tender expressiveness of ‘*****’.

I Can’t Keep Brooding 5.8.2008/re-composed 4.4.2021
Circling Round Ageing;Circling Round Woman;Circling Round Nature;Circling Round Vanities;
Arlene Corwin