The Drips

As I stand here in the bathroom

Dribbling urine on the floor

I realize getting olds not sad

No, it’s so much more

We’ll start up at the top of me

And work our way on down

As gravity teams up with life

To push us in the ground

Once a brown, full head of hair

Now brittle, thin and grey

Only on the sides that is

The middle’s run away

Perhaps my eyebrows chased it off

Like children on my lawn

Bushes now grow o'er my eyes

To rest my glasses on

My ears get larger every day

Yet my deafness grows

And I swear every glass of wine

Ends up in my nose

On a bright note my brain is dim

And it’s actually quite fun

I watch TV every day

And never see a re-run

Not quite the athlete I once was

Although my lungs and heart

Compete for most appearances

On the doctors chart

My throwing arm is all thrown out

My left hand doesn’t feel

So I have to use my right one

Every time I steal

But don’t think that I’m crooked

Except for my spine

I tip waiters 10 percent

When I’m out to dine

I shuffle more than walk now

Mostly to the fridge

So I can raise a glass and toast

My late friend cartilage

Luckily my swollen feet

Only fit in slippers

Elastic sweatpants every day

I said goodbye to zippers

Which brings me back to where I started

As I try to pee

It’s a battle I fight all the time

The winner’s never me

I’m up against a couple thugs

The prostate is the lead

Bullying me day and night

No matter how I plead

His sidekick is a fat old gut

Always in the way

So I can’t see my weaponry

To aim my fickle spray

So off it goes, here and there

In spurts and spits and drips

It comes from me fitfully

Like curses from my lips

So prop me up out in the yard

Like an abandoned car

We all break down, but that’s when

We find out who we are

Mop up this urine soaked advice

From an aging baby boomer

One day you’ll take leave of your senses

Keep your sense of humor