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Day: May 1, 2022


As we age, there’re things we do
Just like before, but not as much;
The timing’s off, we get a flat,
Gears will grind, we slip a clutch.

Our faculties will slip and slide.
When thoughts begin to reoccur
Our mind will muddle, stem and stall,
‘Til current thought becomes a blur.

Hormonally distinctions go;
Boys get bald and girls grow fur.
Parts begin to shift and shake,
‘Til he’s a ma’am and she’s a sir.

Things we’ve done a million times,
These common tasks we fail to do;
Turn off the stove, turn off the car;
Match the right with our left shoe.

To make a morning cup of Joe
A couple things I have to do;
Fit a filter in the cup,
Fill with grounds then heat and brew.

Then listen for the hiss and pop
Kickin’ back, the cup will fill;
To lubricate the neuron flow
I then consume the muddy swill.

But twice this week when I returned
To claim my blend when it was done,
I saw no cup for me to get;
I’d placed beneath the spout not one.

On the floor the coffee flowed,
Below the stove and down the stairs;
My socks were soaked with molten brew
That ran beneath the kitchen chairs.

Exactly when I got so dumb,
What I forget and what I store,
I can’t be sure but one thing’s clear
Each year I’m sure, I’m dumber more. 
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