My face tells me nothing. Not nothing but nothing useful, the
complications of ageing humorously but not exactly how to avoid

Permanent injury is a now popular cliché. At this age any injury
could result in pneumonia, pain in bitterness for your peers,
your jury.

What a headache I have! And never forget injury provokes
at best only pity. Friends are merely friendly, they belong to the

They forget your name and so should you, who are you? Even you
don't know for sure. In relation to community, no change was noted in the

Still, man's mercy, economy's ecology, there's some joy in being small,
some joy in staying strong, and keeping death before you without

Unsafe to run the wind. A big stick might hit your head. Then
the hip and heart and head will hurt, all three. Un-

I like a strong wind. Dangerous to go out in. As a fire or flood.
I like the way we are at risk, not a risk-averse weasel. A carnivore,
very hungry.

Pay money, take chances. Yo's an elegant contraction of you.
Cool. Message from street to board: mongrels rule. Democracy or

Scared to die? Why? Take appropriate measures, descend through
meditation. Be empty, rest. And to your friends and sons be as

Tired of death. It's what it is. Let's play sports, have sex, kayak
to the huckleberries, fish for marvelous fish, live a wonderful life, give

Done blowing, O wild wind? Not yet? So be it. I lay my head
in your felt hands. The motion of the branches, evolutionary branches, are my

That's all folks, 7:30. The sky is clear, the crows are out. The clouds
are with my mood commensurate. I should shout, having lived

Robert Ronnow's most recent poetry collections are New & Selected Poems: 1975-2005 (Barnwood Press, 2007) and Communicating the Bird (Broken Publications, 2012). Visit his web site at