Opting Out
So at 47 I have arrived.
A position most disconcerting,
Troubling? Nay,
Downright disturbing!
A blatant assault.!
An ego in default.
Should have steered left,
Perhaps joined a cult.
Having settled back into the lap,
Of my original birth sack,
I am anything but patient.
I now care for
My matriarch. Ancient!
As she skids down that slippery,
Persnickety, slope,
That slaughterhouse of all hope.
Toward her final expiration.
Once a beauty of
The extraordinary kind
With the quickest of mind,
Don't get it twisted.
Aging is nothing if not unkind,
Names of her clan,
She now labors over, unable to find.
Her once glowing blonde tresses,
Sexy, 50’s signature dresses,
Athletic leaps, impressive,
All night sexual feats,
Replaced now with wrinkles.
A faint frame, once sturdy
Now wobbles and crinkles.
I shall have her warped feet, it appears,
Twisted, worn down from all the years,
As I step back and upsize,
The navy blue faded from her eyes,
Now light gray, I see my own,
Paired with my offensive demise.
I say “Nay!!!”
Launching a rather
Loudly inappropriate protest.
With all of my feisty lather,
I attempt a half-assed jest!
But I'm not joking.
I am not.
Gravity. What a horribly shitty guest!
I opt out!!
I simply do. It just not for me.
This aging get-down,
Perhaps it's for you?
But not I.
Protesting with an icy chill,
This is a far cry from a thrill.
(Excuse me for just a moment,
I must go take another pill.)
Sore joints, crows feet, vision going South?
I have had my fill!
You must understand my decision,
Appreciate my unprecedented position.
I have been paying for the botulism syringe,
Carefully dodging sunbeams that offend,
From beneath my wide brimmed hat.
Ordering fine potions.
(Please! Ship STAT!)
Getting any older?
Nope. Not doing that!
I opt out!
Yes, you heard me,
I'm simply won’t go.
I've called the 800 number,
About losing my glow.
What about my sexual, slippery slide,
Threatening a possible dry run?
Not happening!
My feisty partner laughs and says,
“Princess Vanity,” you have no choice here!”
I say “Nay!” “I refuse!”
I’ll even give up my,
Lavish festivities,
The entire month I decided to show,
If I can dramatically get this aging thing to slow!
You enjoy getting older, but I’m showing age the door.
I shall remain the way I am at present,
Don’t care what’s inevitable,
It matters not who says it.
This girl is aging no more.
I opt out!!!
Copyright © Elisa Christensen | Year Posted 2016
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment