We Thicken into Middle Age

By James Zaferopolos

I am a 65 year old man who has been writing since I was a teen, but never had the courage to attempt publishing anything, an inspiration in my dotage to throw such caution to the wind and move ahead. Maybe, having undergone two transplants (stem cell and kidney) and being forcibly retired, I feel the clock ticking, or, perhaps I feel that I have nothing to lose. I’d rather believe my stuff is worthy of an audience in its own right. At any rate, here we go. As a silly introduction, I send you the following, that fairly well captures how I feel at this stage of my life.

We Thicken into Middle Age 

We thicken
Into middle age,
And it becomes,
Regrettably, the guts,
And not the noble parts,
That rage.

The sins of youth
Consume the soul,
While those
Of middle age
Merely convulse
The stomach, whole.

And what, only,
In youth,
The pen may quell,
Yields,
In our middle years,
To Pepto Bismo
Much too well.

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