Bastards Betraying Youth

As I approach yet another birthday, here’s a thing I wrote about the last one.

fuck middle age,
wrinkles conspicuous,
faces like used leather,
gray beards, hair, faces,
balls,

forgotten youth,
trampled by
up-and-coming

assholes, fervent
pickled cocksure
men, waggling
their flaccid penises

but we,

pouty, pursed lips,
singing ballads from
decades old radio
shows,
masturbate each
other in front
of loving women,
who hold us tight
at night when we
smile and pretend
not to cry,

ringing in my ears,
I hang up the phone,

fuck your parties.

I’m not coming.

not to rub our elbows,
and talk about old fart
shit, pretend our
faces are dragging
in sand, fat, dripping
cancerous truths,

“Is this gluten free?”

fuck you…
this art sucks,
painted by children,
pretending to hurt,

next is 50, I’ll
take it and run,
burn down the
house, dancing cripple

it’s got to be better than
this death,

pour me a beer,
it’s getting late

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~ by Shawn M. Young on June 26, 2019.

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