I’m coming apart at the seams
No longer sprint like a deer
Except in occasional dreams
I struggle in my yoga class
Since getting titanium hips
The lotus and pigeon I pass
It’s so difficult to apply
Mascara to my lashes
I look in the mirror and sigh…
I can’t see without my glasses
But it’s difficult to ignore
Those itchy, mystery rashes
It’s over, now, wearing short skirts
Got to keep knobby knees hidden
While I try exercise in spurts
Joints in my ankles hips and knees
Are letting me down so fast
That climbing stairs is no breeze
I’m shrinking, less one inch this year
My hands crawling with blue veins
Spelling out, “THE END IS NEAR"

casual conversations
evoked then folded
amongst the personal things
stickered and stored
i've so often asked myself
is it possible to fall in love
with every woman
that you ever meet
and if so
how do you let go
and where can you find
a removal van for the mind
for the memories
of all that's left behind
stepping out to start anew
how can i cleanse
in this irish summer rain
with it's tears of a lost love
permeating through
everything i own
records and books
now boxes on a pavement
left signing an old tune
to these photographs of you
of a time
where a photograph
was so much more
than a nine second delay
but something to own
yet like these memories
time too gets overtaken
with no distance left to run
i try to hold as best i can
from the steely approach
of the oncoming removal van