“Rage, Rage, against the dying of the light.” Dylan Thomas
Custom says, “Age gracefully.”
Are they crazy, dumb!
Who wants to look
old
wrinkled
grey?
They lie!
All of them.
Who wants a broken mind
confused
unfocused
lost?
Shoot me!
Burn my bones.
Scatter them
in the desert sands
to feed
desert willow where
rattlesnakes lie
searching for shade.