“It’s a crack,” she says. “Not a wrinkle.” “Or both,” I say, gently moving her hand From my face. “Wrinkles are like cracks.” “But how could you crack your face?” “Laughing,” I say. “And smiling.” (Source: "Cracked", 40x41: Midlife Crisis Postponed) This was an amusing, real life exchange with one of my nieces that is sandwiched roughly mid-poem. It might be the best part. Perhaps the bread and ...
Change
Wrinkles
"You know that you have officially HIT at total midlife crisis when you get acne on your wrinkles." ~ Comic Strip Mama ...
Choice
Lard clings to my jelly belly and assimus maximus, but melts away elsewhere. Bullshit! It doesn’t melt. That’s poet talk, and yesterday’s wine is tomorrow’s vinegar. Melts becomes drips becomes oozes becomes slippery. “Pare away pretty poetry,” I beg my puffed up parody in the mirror. “Stand up straight. Drop the mask. Shed the costumery. Lose the skin of the lion…” If ...
What If?
What if I could overcome debilitating bugaboos and bust forty’s balls? Vanquish the to do list, purge my doughy paunch (literal and figurative), de-quarantine the drafts, indulge my latent doodler, transform the next decade into a parade of firsts and at lasts… What if? (… from Midlife Crisis Averted Postponed. 40x41: Midlife Crisis Postponed) ...