aged

send your old men
into the midden heap
away from things of beauty
so their rheumy stares
do not infect,
so their dry hands
do not desiccate and destroy.

send your old women
to high-walled communes,
to loveless cat-filled castles
for they no longer yearn,
no dreams of flesh and kisses,
they are done with the earth
and the things in it.

send your aged away,
they sprang to life from the dust
a decrepit species unto themselves
and know not the rapture of youth;
loathe them and be thankful
you will be dew-kissed nubiles forever
far from the filth of the dying.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.