A poem on getting old(er), my new obsession!


VEST


A pocket wobbles down the street.

Someone picks it up & takes it home.

What's more hopeful than a pocket

without a coat? I bragged I could

move in an hour, two cardboard boxes

& all my earthly goods. But you get

married, have a kid or two, pretty soon

stuff owns you as the dead comedian said.

Today I walked in on my wife, naked

in the bathroom, me, not the wife, wearing

nothing but my down vest. I felt sexy,

the pillowy gray nylon hiding my bad parts.

I flexed the good parts, my guns. What's

sexier than bare arms & a sleeveless vest?

My wife laughed & said I looked gay.

That's ok. I never thought I'd be sleeping with a

60-year-old woman either. An old Dean

of Students once told us freshmen, I can

turn my wife into a quivering blob of protoplasm

in ten seconds. I remember how we gagged.





Poetry by Jefferson Carter
Read 526 times
Written on 2008-12-15 at 18:04

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