The Cat Looks Back
Every so often the story will out –
once I was bitten, twice I was shy.
Now I am waiting, my heart in my mouth,
hoping again I’m not up the spout.
So much for clean slates and a sensible start:
I’m in the deep end with more mud in my eye.
This is the truth that has finally come out:
I’m overly bitten and not enough shy.
Continuing Meditation
I think I was born in the wrong demographic –
looks like I’m stuck at the crossroads again
too fit to quit, too old to maffick
My manner is smooth, my smile seraphic
but every so often I wallow in spleen
I was born in the wrong demographic
The problem is real – it’s not geographic
it follows me always, wherever I’ve been
I’ve no need to quit and prefer not to maffick.
My spirit is sleek, my body Falstaffic
before I act, I count to ten
as do all in my demographic
... but there’s no point being overly graphic.
Sometimes you feel there’s no way to win
when you’re too fit to quit, too old to maffick
But whether you’re straight or gay or sapphic
there’s no telling how, no telling when
you’re too fit to quit, too old to maffick –
and everyone’s born in the wrong demographic.
Adieu Scuba Doo
Full fathom five my car key lies
full fathom four my phone
At fathom three I snapped my knee
at fathom two I’m gone
At fathom one my song is done
no helpful hurtling hero
to drag me wet and gasping
to plus or minus zero
Alas alas! I can no more:
sans youth sans breath sans marbles
flat on my back on the ocean floor
I’m forever blowing bubbles.
