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…