Hell, the universe expands until it dies. Why not me?

LAST EFFORTS BY JOE MASI 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 67

While walking Baily and Charlie 

I ponder poems about growing old.

Each tosses out a morphing message. 

Most I catch, chew, challenge, chuck:

From broken, bruised, beat-up bodies

to heaven’s healing fountains of youth.

From a forever-spirited, daring dude

to an abrupt step into grizzled darkness.

From a sun…