Dogs 2013

MIDDLE CAGED
(1/7/13)


I feel
trapped

trapped
between
the young man
whom I feel
myself
to be
and
the aging
derelict
whom I see
each morning
in the mirror

most
of the thinning
hair
on my head
is still brown
but my
beard
has become
mostly white

without
even the patience
to spend
a bit of time
at gray

I still
embrace
the unscripted
realities
that life
throws at me
but have begun
to enjoy
the set routine
that paradoxically frees
my metaphysical
wanderings

I can still
perform
the physical
feats
of youth
(albeit more slowly)
but have become
accustomed
to the pain
that activity
now contains

I still crave
the discordant chaos
of Slayer
but now appreciate
the smooth delivery
of Andy Williams

I still bathe
in the beauty
of women
but now
realize
the corrosion
that beauty
may conceal

I know
that one day
my cloister
will shift
to the room
between
my current
cell of conundrums
and the long
hall
of death

but today
I can rant

I can rhyme

I can rush

I can
take
my
time

I can feel
the biting wind
in my face

I can also
accept
the peace
of grace

I can
look
to either tier

and know
that my place
is here