Me And My Indian Wife
TMT
Mr, B As In Bad.
Master Ghuey Charles Dickens
I'm Glad My Mom Can't See Me
Totally Violated
I Can't Take It No More
West Coast
Why Are You Here
Blue Ribbon Frenemy
RFKMP
Trickle Down
Family Tree
Bird Song: . Save The Hippies; then Free The love...
Most Beautiful One
Mary's Kitchen
The View at 62
Raven
Rum And Pesto
Firefly
King David's Gold
Sounds Of Sire
Melissa Melissa Melou
Uncool in School
Drug Of Choice
Rabbit Hole
Before You Walk, You'll Have To Crawl
Anybody wanna rock 'n' roll
Butterfly Collector
Sammy D
I want my face back
Too High
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I run my bath water tepid,
I'm older but, still fairly intrepid.
Since, I've turned 62,
What on earth can I do?
But, to laugh at it all.
Do I entertain you?
Though, not yet old enough for the rest home,
it's been whispered
I"m beginning to resemble a garden gnome.
My spirit bleeds silly.
My veneer is blanched pilly.
I'm growing old, what a drag.
When I date, I go stag.
Young women and old,
must think I have mold.
I barely get noticed.
So what's the red flag?
I've even considered renting rut stags
But, men too, wouldn't amue me
They'd hurt and abuse me
then toss me away like some toothless old nag.
I've once again,reviewed The Tao.
It instructs me to dwell in the "here" and the "now".
But, "now" my skin isn't pink.
I smell like a skunk, what a stink.
Like the cancer it has traveled to my toilet and sink.
A stealthy stench, of which
it's a bitch.
You don't need a de-coder
to uncover the odor.
I'm slowly decaying,
I'm dying.
I think...
Buddy Bee Anthony
All editing and publishing rights reserved 'as is' by this author
Re-Edited 09/13/2023 @ 4:07 AM Pacific Time
The View at 62
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