oh how I miss the strippers

the drunken nights of lechery and mental dislocation

the altered states of awareness

the cold dawns at early coffee shops

after a night of debauchery

now all of it could put me in sick bay

in an instant

now all of it would even kill me outright

age hobbles us

then takes away our crutches

and any wistful envy of the young

is mitigated knowing

they also will come to this decay

some day...

Content (c) 2008-2011 Philip Milito.