Old Age Size Poem by Sally Plumb Plumb
Old Age Size
I wake up
every morning
spread across
my bed.
Whilst yawning,
yawning, yawning,
my chins
support my head.
My breasts
like trembling bubbles
slope down
towards my thighs.
Fat, old age
is comfortable,
but fat, old age
brings sighs.
Aren't you glad that you at least wake up every morning? Old age has its advantages. I can hide my own Easter eggs now! The other day I woke up and thought I was dead because nothing hurt! My friend Hank Beuning told me about this poem, and I'm glad he did. It was fun to read!
Yeah you are right.There are sighs and sighs during old age. Nice spilling of thoughts. Liked it. Thanks for sharing.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/3/2024 8:11:49 PM # 1.0.0.1119
At first I didn't understand the title. Now I do: it's a pun! (size, sighs) I like to have fun with my titles, too. I have one poem called " Play Jurist" . It's about plagiarism.