Running Through the Ages

Early Times Panting through a few females. Running on the spot mostly. Go to Paris to find myself find a locally made Gallic STD. Have a Ringo mustache, the prostitutes on the Montmartre think I’m pretty cool for a kid. Beach bum along the Mediterranean, bare feet imprinted on sand do not last, however, sun, sex, and cheap wine should not be underrated. ~~~~~~~~~~~ Age Twenty Took her home to meet the parents. A good girl, not much sense of occasion. Stripy rainbow knee-high socks, mini skirt, pink hair deeply cockney accent and prone to casual expletives. Father kept grinning until his smile froze. Mother took her cues from the Arch Duchess of mucky-muck. ~~~ Age Thirty In the used car lot sleazy car salesman blindsides me. I should have been ready more alert, driving home in a ten year old Mercedes wondering if my childhood will ever end? I am now a professional, nurses figure larger in my life than they ethically should. Head for The Far East to administer to the halt and lame including, metaphorically speaking, myself. ~~ Age Forty. Finally qualify for veteran status in a marathon race. My athletic son is also running in it. I fake a sprained ankle, then disappear for ages travelling the world. When I return, my shoulders grow cold from icy stares, wife is dating someone else - family relief all around. ~~ Age Fiftyish Fish diet, wife still unhappy, son married and distantly related to Trotsky. Adorable brats for grandchildren. Got a mistress who thinks I’m great, but maybe it’s too late, testosterone levels going south. My Boss hates me. Adultery & divorce, new wife, much like the old one but less y. We roam the globe again, desperately seeking something - anything. ~~ Autumnal Years The police are getting younger. Dental appointments are reaching danger levels. I’m not holding any grudges for I have been right all along. Turns out I am a poet and quite enjoy pissing folks off. Life is good, but then again it always was. ~~~