Short Timepieces

by Ben Nardolilli

The old and young are their age,
Bent over and crawling,
They do not play at those roles,
The body gives them the foundation
With little needed to build upon,
The middle-aged, and the teenaged
Are simply confused,
With new hair for the first time,
Taking up smoking and herbal remedies,
Learning to be identified by a car seat,
We, the liberated and still young,
We act out our age, often
With the ages of ages past,
Taking up hippie disco punk funk
Textile characters to parade in,
Remembering to hang the clothes up
Before passing out to worry
How we will starve
And in what style, tomorrow