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Sunday, March 14, 2010

After being told I look good for 67 (on my 57th birthday)

damn fluorescent light
carpet seam carpet
gray on grey
air machines hum
the building thinks it is alive
damn fluorescent light
bright eyes open

to a dimming world
veins ridge skin
it takes longer to chew
almost everything
creaks yet the mind
grows younger
the heart more childlike
the longer we hang on

our engines slow
as the scenery
speeds by
there are no breaks
aging is a paradox
a wind bitten rag
dancing on a stick

the grim reaper
telling jokes
window glare window
knock knock
no one is there
everyone is moving
damn fluorescent light

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