getting uglier and liking it..

belly droops…teats sag…gray mixes-in with what was once jet-black…and the stares from the broads become less and less and less…

sitting naked at this typewriter…an inventory of honesty…naked at midnight hour…a new skin-tag appeared yesterday…and a mole the day before…

hazy-brown eyes behind bi-focals…circles of purple and black…purple and black…getting uglier and liking it…

hair on the back…the ass becomes concave…ankles pop when walking in the rain on November days…truth becomes easier…easier…

and the houses and the vacations and the wives and the cars and the careers and the moving from town to town to town and the Greyhound bus ticket from a one way excursion of youth and the whores and the drinks and the midnight joints and the old time haunts and Manhattan…and Manhattan….gone now…gone…

autumnal walks at noon…colors of leaves painted trees…morning coffee alone…alone…why is this poem so-hard to write…

belly droops…teats sag…gray mixes-in with what was once jet black…and the stares from the broads become less and less and less…

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