when did i become
so much older than
i think i was meant
to grow?

somewhere in the
intoxicating haze of
hot passions and
frigid silences
the years continued
to accumulate as i
was preoccupied by
the beauty around me.

giving up all of
the best years i had
chasing someone else’s
dreams and abiding
the poor advice of
those that didn’t want
to see another succeed
somewhere in there
the hair in my nose
and ears began to
sprout.

the laughter left
lines and the insatiable
curiosity left furrows
and i became older
without consent.

wasn’t it just the
other day when the lovely
ladies traced their fingers
through my chest hair
as we talked of futures
we were never meant to
experience together?

before the madness
settled into the wrinkles
of my gray matter
when i still mattered
and forever was still
somewhat in my grasp.

when did the anxieties
replace the hope
counting calories took
the place of empty bottles
and a hangover was
no more than a mild
inconvenience?

do all old men
suddenly wake infirm and
uncertain as to how
they got there?

when did dreams go from
attainable goals
to wistful reminders of
all the time lost?

why can’t my idiot heart
recognize this passage
find acceptance in the
scraps that are feasts
to failing eyes?

will these lips finally
forget how to kiss
these arms know only the
comfort of a pillow
these callused fingers
hold only the memory of
tracing soft flesh?

when did the barstool and
laughter of friends as
round after round were
tossed back become another
quiet night reading waiting
for it to get late enough
to justify going to bed
frustrated at the words
as they float nebulous
just out of my feeble grasp?

when did i become so
goddamned old?

and when did i give up?

i guess i will never know.