For nearly thirty seven years
I had control of nose and ears
Smooth skin upon the conch and lobe
And nostrils clean as Manitobe

But time and genes bedevil me
My good health lost to revelry
I'm sprouting gardens in these holes
Profuse enough to shelter voles

Now naked fore the glass I stand
Electric clippers in my hand
To prune these bushes back to stumps
And check my testicles for lumps

Strange growths from body, mind and head
At least they're signs that I'm not dead

JD Frey -- June 14, 2005


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