in the months after i turn 40
the body begins to quit me
like a lover i’d cheated
the right ear rings with wax—
a clogged cocoon refusing even
the sound of my thoughts
the left shoulder blade never stops
aching as if the wings of my youth
have been stripped—my failed
flexibility a reminder
of how fly
i once was
the right hip throbs, wakes
me out of sleep like an angry
lover forcing me on my back
the kneecaps click and whine
when i walk—and any attempt
at dancing they buckle
with laughter: i am humbled
into a two-step, a woeful hustle—
remembering family
gatherings when the old folk
would wobble and finger snap
while we, the vainglorious,
smirked and stifled, coughed
through dust they kicked up
now, this body is not unlike
theirs—slower and inefficient
and like a younger lover always
reminding me of my age
This slideshow requires JavaScript.