Eat a Peach
The prostate goes.
The plumbing breaks.
The penis drips.
It isn’t pretty.
Sagging boobs are the least of it.
Being young sucks but for other reasons.
The balding head started balding years ago.
I was prepared for it.
But not for this.
No one told me the knees would go.
It’s a lot to give up.
First, tobacco, but who would argue?
Then rice, pasta, coffee, chocolate.
Should I care or can I ignore it?
Death is so close I can taste it.
People look you over and see you’re half dead;
Most are too polite to say so.
They might feel a little sympathy.
You want to touch and be touched in turn,
But let’s face it: you’re old and stinky.
You used to count on that chance to get closer.
Love is over: you’ll never pat an ass again.
What’s missed is not the fornication but the flirting.
I for one see no reason to get together,
No point at all in communication.
Why meet people even more miserable than I?
In fact, if they’re not helping with the tax returns,
What’s the value of all this interaction?
Talk about what? What’s in it for me?
There are no more ballgames, just what everyone calls “TV.”
There are too many problems you’d rather not share.
Bodily secretions, special strains of sweat,
Rare sovereign odors once confined to one’s nether regions.
Little spills don’t add up to much, yeah, sure. But the
Throat clearing, sneezing, and nose dripping are constant.
Everything falls out and what doesn’t
Doesn’t work well.
When your body goes, you’re through.
People say today, “I’m done,” but they’re not done for.
If they were, they wouldn’t say so.
The final feet, the final door:
One works one’s way towards the finish.
Can one find a sign of hope, or a bit of encouragement?
The only sign I have is one tiny hair on my nose.
Perhaps tomorrow I’ll find two.
David Lohrey was born on the Hudson River but grew up on the Mississippi in Memphis. He graduated from U.C., Berkeley. He earned his Ph.D. at Charles Sturt University, Wagga Wagga, AUS. He currently teaches in Tokyo. His poetry can be found in The Rats Ass Review, Plum Tree Tavern, The Blue Mountain Review, Peeking Cat Poetry Magazine, and Quarterday. He is writing a memoir of his years living in the Persian Gulf.
Art can illuminate even the most elusive and difficult to comprehend ideas. Visual rules and tightly codified visual metaphors help scientists communicate complex ideas mostly amongst themselves, but they can also become barriers to new ideas and insights. Dr. Regina Valluzzi’s images are abstracted and diverged from the typical rules and symbols of scientific illustration and visualization; they provide an accessible window into the world of science for both scientists and non-scientists.