Young man aging him

I have done nothing new for days, except composites
of half-sales days other men knew of before I did.
Swallowing all manner of element I confess I’m lazy,
despite what’s open to me. What I said to me
croaking on the porch yelling in a belch poor death
sold me half-sale: I am old, I am old, I am old,
in explanation half-sale as it was almost stolen.
When I was old, I taught myself how to freckle.
And hold my stomach in, and perch my arms up,
and I grunted as all old men do at personal loathings
that become common and holstered in the cell.

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~ by Jeremy on June 8, 2012.

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