Category: Aging

Stress Kills

When Woman has a bad day,
Man hears about it.
Loud and long.
Man finds this stressful.

Stress is bad.

When Man has a bad day,
Women hear about it.
Loud and not so long.
Woman should find this stressful.

Instead, Man is then asked,
“Why are you blaming this on me?“
So, now, Man has work stress.
Also, he owes Woman an apology
For the crime of attempted stress.

Man must apologizing to Woman
For something Woman does to Man.
Man does not know how to apologize.
Man does not understand the issue.
This is extremely stressful.

Double stress is really bad.

Man drops dead of stress.
Woman says, “He was so young.”
Woman takes a cruise to relax.
She throws Man’s ashes overboard.

No more stress.

Woman has a bad day.
She goes shopping
With her inheritance.
Finds some goodies.

No more stress.

Fall in Spring

I was rearranging my plants.
In my lucky sweat pants.
That’s not really my point.
I’ve wounded another joint.

It’s Spring and lovely as can be,
But I fell and tweaked my knee.
Watching my new plants stand tall,
And I’m wondering if I can crawl.

Everything is still locked down,
We’re just remaining in town.
Otherwise, I’d be on a ship,
But I still had my Spring Break trip.

Sixty

Raise a glass, shed a tear, I’m getting old, the end is near.

Happy Birthday to me.
I’ll just watch some TV.
We’re all still on lockdown.
Happy Birthday to me.

I planned a little birthday trip,
It would’ve been quite fun.
Now, we’re quarantined at home,
The trip has been undone.

Sixty will be a Facetime birthday.
“It’s fun!”, my dear wife said.
I’ll see my brother’s smiling face,
And the top of my Mom’s head.

Happy Birthday to me.
I loathe Twenty-Twenty.
I’m going stir-crazy,
Happy Birthday to me.

Progress

Two weeks in a splint.
Don’t touch the ground!
Don’t breathe on it!
It’s a marathon, not a sprint.

Three weeks in a cast.
Don’t touch the ground!
Don’t scratch inside it!
The time will go by fast.

Four weeks in a boot.
Don’t touch the ground!
Don’t get it wet!
You’ve really learned to scoot.

One final week in the boot.
You may walk, if you please.
Please wash it!
You smell of old coot.

Ten weeks later,
It’s just a foot again.
(Still limping a bit.)