Advancing Years

The blessings of old age are mine
You've got your health you say to me
You can walk through the high meadow
You can enjoy the fruits of your labors
Drink the finest wine puff the Peace pipe
See the world in all its splendid variety
Reminisce your rich life of accomplishment

You cannot know my Love how such blessings
Are curses for my health is my undoing
The source of my lust my longing my desire
Once again to fuck in the high meadow
To roll my flesh with another's flesh not
Merely to sate but to be desired wanted
To have my Lover tremble at my touch

What is the world's splendid variety to me
Beauty encompassing me returning my stare
With one of kindness mistakenly assuming I
Am sweet generous someone's saintly granddad
A philanthropist not a philanderer someone whose
Memories ought to be preserved for posterity
As I am fantasizing the sweetness of your posterior

How we are herded into this false integrity 
This jail of  distinguishability  propped up as
Revered when all we are is reviled our bodies
Reminders of mortality the very thought of our
Nudity disgusting the young Hell disgusting our
Selves nothing of the weathered twisted juniper
On the cliff standing in sublime loved resplendence

The truest blessing of old age is that it will end
The body and mind will fail  as we own oblivion

Jack