Starting my morning journal notes, yesterday, July 31,
I wrote August 31, 2011 and as soon as I realised
my error I crossed out the August and wrote July and
Don’t rush it, Pal. Summer’s in the fast lane
and frost will nip the tomatoes, winter will
blow shivering cold, ice my streets soon enough, — so
So don’t rush me. Skin dries and wrinkles fast enough,
and my ears already call for hearing aids, did I mention
teeth, digestion, knees wobbling, low back pain ???
So don’t rush — chill. Now, I’ll lie down under the sprinkler,
feel the thousand drops tingle my face, eat cake for breakfast,
drink some sunlight, give sunlight kisses to Mary
eat ripe tomatoes with salt, have a third cup of coffee,
dunk chocolate in it. Chill, it’s still summer and
at age 120, I will dance the night before I die.