Old AgeLoren Otis 3:20 PMOld Age by Bowie-Pop
Can you imagine, one day, we're going to be old.
Our eyes are going to have wrinkles spreading to our cheeks- and just all over the damned place.
And our lips will get all thin and crooked, our chins are going to get all bunched up and grumpy looking. We're going to grow fin-like limbs under our chins and on our necks that will flow to every word we speak.
...I don't know why that bugs me out, but it just occurred to me that I'll wish I was back where I am now.
I mean, our bones will hurt.
Not just joints or sore muscles, our _bones._
That's an uncomfortable idea.
Every time we do something, we might forget it; and worse yet, the best moments in life we'll barely remember except the way we've told it for years.
I am going to be lost on that idea for the rest of the day. I'm going to be going to the gym and staring at some good looking dude, imagining him with a crooked back and as old as the crack of Christ.
And he's just going to have to leave, because so
bornetomorrow we'll setborne by pagan-poetess
paper airplanes adrift
over the muddy pacific,
the place where it starts
behind stanley park.
i know the ocean wasn't
really born there, i know it
comes from a bigger womb,
but it feels that way to me,
that edge there
where water and foam
smash hopelessly against sand,
that feels like creation.