I am gingerly trying
to slip into my new age…
Of (gag) 83.
It arrives, without any frills,
In fifteen days.
BUT--
“It’s too BIG, too LARGE, too MUCH!
Please, can’t I have something
smaller, younger, prettier, fresher?”
This EIGHTIES PLUS
garment
belongs to wrinkled, doddering, feeble
people who can barely
Talk or Move
or Think or Feel
or Care.
Not for many years from now
(If ever)
I’m not going to
“fight it”
Because “it” will not be real.
I’m not
budging!
Whew, now I can go out and party!
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