I have become handsome in my old age.
"You're cute," smiled Denise, breaking up with me,
"But cute is all you'll ever be."
Denise who was so wrongwrongwrong, I miss
Our Woodstock nights, half-a-million thumb-flicked
Bics coaxed to climax by God's thwapping bass,
Hissing soppy Oms against the cloudmass.
A drenched, naked hillside soulless and pure,
Zonked, mud-caked, Yanomamö, immature.
I forgive Sly and the Family Stone.
I slept through Santana, dreaming future
Exes who might love me despite my rage.
I have grown lonesome in my afflictions.
I have become handsome in my old age.--- Michael Waters
From Celestial Joyride
©2016 BOA Editions