Monday, August 12, 2013



To the young
It means something new
Something slick,
Happening and hip

I like that; it shows grit;
That youth is not entirely wasted
On the young

Until I get sick, then
I need the word to worry and
To woe.
To show its age;
To keep tabs on the plague.

I caught this bucolic bug
In exchange for the sweetest hug, the sickest kiss, from
The youngest person I know:
Ironic bliss.

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