I went to break my 40 hour fast,
My fulsome but futile attempt to fool the Lord
That a pebble thrown into a roiling sea
Helps to salvage the shipwreck that is me.
I sat wearing the backpack of old age
Seeking to pull me down before I die
When an old Spanish scarecrow did appear
And began to talk as if we were old friends.
“The bus ain’t comin’” he said, resigned,
“Cuz the Cubs is playin’” he went on.
And on. And on. I looked up to the sky
For there should be drones as I asked myself the why
I am attractive to old guys, when I’m but sixty-eight
And see the landing strip that holds my too soon fate.
I will live forever is my mind’s chant,
Refuge inside my drying head.
I will live forever is my mind’s chant,
As he continues on his pleasant rant.
Knowing I will be wrong but only once
And not even realize that fact.
How can you lose when that’s the game
The play’s the thing so why not act
As if its acts are infinite and run
Until the burning out of our sweet sun.
“And I tell ya’,” he says with a disarming wink,
“I heard pussy is a drink
That can make ya live a long long time…”
I almost
ran past
THAT gem before I saw
He had just given me a poem and tonight a few odd dreams.
“Ya, I wish I could get pussy intravenously!” he said with pride.
I looked around for someplace I could hide.
I opened up my phone with urgency
To find when the next bus would arrive.
And when I saw six minutes, I felt relief,
This strange encounter would be over than
I could ponder the absurdities of life
And if HE is part of God’s great plan.