She slips
off
her rocker
and giggles:
can it be
can it be
that all I
can see
is
a reality?
She says, “Last night I thought
I heard God, but it mighta been
the Supremes.”
Wanna die, wanna die
from flying so high
today I am ten
and tomorrow
Iβm 60.
More quiet,
more quiet,
more crazy
&
quiet.
(c) 2015-2019 Rob Goldstein
Awesome poetry!
LikeLiked by 1 person
This is most intriguing, Rob
LikeLiked by 1 person
My grandparents used to say that you could reverse the numbers in your age when you didn’t like the real one. So I’m not even ten — I’m 06! Super poem and image, Rob — and I always loved the Supremes. Hugs on the wing.
LikeLike
Excellent work.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Paula!
LikeLike
Very nice.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you!
LikeLike
Compelling. I see her tears β€
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Jacquie. I’m always surprised by what I can find in the face of an avatar. I drafted that poem in my thirties. I guess I thought sixty was going to feel older than it does. π
LikeLiked by 2 people
Well, that’s good news π
LikeLiked by 1 person
Oh yeah. It’s like having a little troop of actors. π
LikeLiked by 1 person
Why do I love this poem so much? Because I’m also “off my rocker” and giggling and wondering and more 10 than 60. β€
LikeLiked by 2 people
This poem is for everyone who understands quantum aging. π
LikeLiked by 1 person
YES!!!
LikeLiked by 1 person
π
LikeLike
Bravo my friend. I really like this.
Happy Monday.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you. You’ve made my day! π
LikeLiked by 1 person