lasting.

you sentient mentalists can keep a firm grip
on your fondness for firsts.
i'm more of a semi-sentimental holdout
for the ends of things.
for instance,
currently,
i'm lamenting the dearth of bread in my breadbox.
(that's what she said?)
because that means yesterday was the last
Tea aNd Toast breakfast of my thirty-fifth year.
awwwwwwww, man.
don't worry,
it's not as if we're not gonna still break our fast,
we're just shark-swallowing a big buttery potful
of luxury-style gourmet oatmeal instead,
with luscious deep dark maple syrup on top, neighbors.
but still......
you can probably see what i mean.
right now,
i'm dreading our slippery sloping driveway,
as i go out in the last snowstorm
to get the last batch of firewood
to keep warm on the last lonely night
of being thirty-five.
naturally
there will still be more of all of this.
but,
it'll all also be subtly different.
i'm just sayin'-
i'll be older,
and not much better,
but possibly wiser.
then again,
if i don't go to the grocer one last time,
and i don't doo-doo that home heating
hearth-heaping heartwood haul,
then it'll be the last hungry, cold evening instead.
which also means that thirty six might seem better
by comparison.
now,
who says i can't fill a glass halfway?
woooooooord.
***********
holy flippin' sh!t, my ninjas.
this is it.
today is the day.
the last day.
and tomorrow is the first one, again.
it's all kind of a thing.
i've got one last batch of trying tattzapping bombs to burst
and then it's a kamikaze divebomb into
another 'nother happy birthday to me.
and whilst it will be neither the biggest,
nor the most beautifullest,
that noise was never the object.
the object, my minky mutha-F*ing mates,
is, was, and will always be more.
old and busted?
make way for the new hottness.
pretty soon, friends,
instead of teeth,
my hands will be rocking dentures;
never quiet, never soft.....