No Title Needed.

      
     
     
Nearing my fourty fifth      
birthday;      
     
     
Arthritic joints      
worn skin      
and a spine that      
shrinks in water      
leaves rusted body panels      
under bed covers      
an extra hour;      
when the birds      
wake the sun      
during chimes      
of Grandfathers      
and Coo-coos      
     
Limbs lay warming      
in the winter breath      
-dehyrated bone      
     
Did you know one third      
of a living bone      
is water?      
     
The heart      
takes longest      
to propel, with      
engine starter cranks      
on a Model T      
It splutters      
vibrates      
stalls      
falls      
and clanks off      
-on the morning's      
incline      
     
I wonder how much      
slow starts    
are age      
versus      
miles driven      
on African  
pothole ridden      
dirt roads?      
   
I'd imagine if      
a lamp worth rubbing      
was found      
wishes would be      
as abstract      
as our virginity      
or cracks in bones      
filled and recoated      
in the reincarnation      
of personalities      
powered on WD-40      
     
If honesty      
splashed across      
poetic paper      
Prayers      
would light      
thornless      
stems      
     
holding buds of colour      
upright      
and confident      
as bodies ache      
in the blood spins      
of the half century      
marathon      
     
     
To me poetry that wears "heart" and "soul" without the nausea, in a single write...
is Citalopram